You and Me
by KelseyDJ2015
Summary: Emmy is a normal young woman, or so she thought. When the Doctor discovers her one night, she makes him wonder if he really is the last of his kind. The pair embark on an unforgettable adventure on the search for her true identity, while a dark presence looms over the universe that only the Doctor can face. OC.
1. Chapter 1: A Discovery

_A/N: Just wanted to give a little background to this story. This is my first fanfiction, it came from a dream I had quite a long time ago. English is not my first language, so sometimes my grammar can be a little strange, but I have an editor. At the time I wrote this, series 7 hadn't been released, nor were the photos with the Doctor's new outfit, so that is why he's still in tweed. I'm trying to make this as canon as possible, so I use Wikipedia for fact checking. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and if you don't mind, drop your thoughts into a review! Thanks for reading! _

Chapter 1

The Doctor sat with his legs hanging out of the TARDIS, elbows on his knees, admiring the spectacular show below. He took a deep breath as the solar flares stretched across the Earth, the protons and electrons shooting across the stars leaving streaks of colour in the Earth's atmosphere. The Doctor noted that it was a particularly strong storm, perhaps causing power outages, the humans staying up all night to catch a glimpse at the Northern lights. He let out a little chuckle, perhaps envious of how the human race found everything new and exciting. He remembered those years, when he was young, just a teenager, celebrating his first century. Even his home planet mesmerized him, leaving him astonished at everything. The Doctor rubbed his eyes, the eyes of an old man, of a war veteran, of a father, lover, and the list went on and on.

It had been three hundred and fifty years since he had slipped into the shadows, since he had had a companion. Of course there had been the days with River Song, but even now those were behind him. He hadn't had a companion since, preferring to travel alone now. Just the Doctor and his TARDIS like it always had been. Alone. He adjusted his bowtie even though there was no one to put the act on for. But he did so out of habit. He was so used to hiding his feelings it had become his entire being. Always the happy Doctor, the carefree Doctor with his fezzes and Stetsons. What he had become now he did not know. His mask was so worn, he wondered how much longer it would last.

He admired the stars once more, the familiar twinkle in the sky on the velvet expanse of the unknown. His hearts were heavy, he was aware of their staccato rhythm in his chest; every single pumping of the valves reverberated in his chest. It was beautiful, the flares. They seemed to engulf the Earth, like a flame under a coal. Satellites would surely be capturing the moment with their filtered cameras, unable to see what he could. Unable to witness the immense power of their central star. Unable, like so many, to understand what he felt. The weight on his shoulders could not be described. So many lost, so many gained. So many come, so many go. And only he remained. The madman and his box. A single tear left a trail down his face, when the TARDIS suddenly jolted, corkscrewing in such a way, he fell inside, into the railing of the staircase to the main console.

* * *

><p>Emmaline Gray sat on her roof of her flat in central London, clutching the locket that dangled from her neck. Tonight was one of those nights, another heated domestic with Nick, ending with him grabbing most of his things and slamming the door so hard that the photo of them falling off the wall, shattering. She shuddered, remembering how he grabbed her shoulders, his grip hard enough to leave bruises. She decided that she would call a locksmith tomorrow, leaving his things in a box on the steps. She respected herself enough to get out of a terrible relationship than to deal with someone so manipulative.<p>

She laid back on the quilt she had spread nearly three hours ago, sighing, and shivering in the damp cold. The wind whipped her long curly hair around, she cursed, knowing her untameable curls would be knotted tomorrow. She wrapped her arms around herself, and then pulled at the chain around her neck. She lifted the locket to her face, examining it closely. Funny, she's had this locket for as long as she can remember. And worn it every day of her life, there was not one memory or photo without it around her neck. But the origins of the locket, well, she couldn't quite explain them herself. Maybe it was a family heirloom, passed down from mother to daughter. Maybe the answer was inside; she had never opened it before. What possessed her to open it now, she didn't know.

She slid the long chain over her head, rubbing her thumb over the face of the locket. It was soft silvery yet gold colour, it was engraved with a circular pattern, it was quite beautiful, and she traced the interlocking loops with the tip of her finger. Then she pressed her thumb to the clasp, and it sprung open.

* * *

><p>"Dear, what are you doing?" The Doctor screamed, pulling himself up with the railing, bounding up the stairs and analyzing the data on the dashboard.<p>

But the TARDIS would give him no information as she flew herself to his destination. He straightened his bowtie, running his hands through his hair.

"Where do I need to be now, old girl? Who needs me _now_?" He grumbled, checking his jacket pocket for his trusty sonic screwdriver.

The brakes screeched in response, and he leaped down the stairs and out the doors.

He was on a roof, in central London. Bloody hell, he thought, how did he always end up in London?

But the woman being surrounded in swirls of golden energy stole his attention away from his current location. She was sitting with her legs crossed, curly brown hair waving about her, an open locket in her palms, shining a warm light onto her face. He kneeled in front of her, she didn't notice, enraptured in the locket. Her navy jumper hung off of her shoulders, where he could see her skin had formed goose bumps. Her dark hazel eyes were round and wide in awe, a smile splayed across her face. He took his sonic screwdriver from his jacket and passed it up and down her. Human, well, not quite human, the readings were unclear.

Pocketing the tool, he leaned towards her "Hello? Miss? Are you okay?"

But she didn't respond, the light coming from within the locket flashing across her face. The swirls of gold rushed around her, he held up his hand, and the energy reached up, surrounding his hand, tickling his palm. He understood now, and he backed away unsure of what he found. His chest tightened, and he pulled at his collar, swallowing hard. How could he not have known? How did she survive this long? How did she get here? His head was pounding, he pulled at his hair, gritting his teeth, going to the edge of the roof and looking down upon the street. That didn't help, it made his head swim.

"Oh!" He heard behind him, whipping around immediately.

The woman lay crumpled on the quilt, skin glowing slightly with all the energy. He rushed to her side, feeling her pulse, it was erratic, but she was alive. He brushed some stray curls from her face, and smiled. She was quite beautiful, the soft creamy skin, with a spray of freckles across her cheeks, pearly square teeth framed by luscious dark lips. But he couldn't think of that now, he had just discovered something that changed everything for him.


	2. Chapter 2: A New Identity

Chapter 2

Emmaline Gray came to on the glass floor of the TARDIS, blinking her eyes, not sure of what she was feeling. She was cold, much colder than before, but it felt somehow normal. And her body buzzed with this power, this force, this vigor, which she couldn't have possessed before. And this terrible noise, this screeching, the deep bass, that resounded through her bones, making her head swim. In her sight, she saw lines, cracks maybe, and ripples in reality. These somehow new senses overwhelmed her, overwhelm didn't even begin to describe what she was feeling, but she knew it was all too much for her to bear.

She gasped, clutching her head, covering her ears with the palms of her hands, squeezing her eyes shut. She pulled her knees to her chest; letting out a noise that she wasn't even sure was human.

The Doctor, who had been running several diagnostic tests on this woman turned to see her on her side, clutching her head and sobbing. He rushed to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder, pushing her hair back.

"Shh, I know it's a lot to handle right now. Can you hear me?" The Doctor's face paled as he tried to comfort her, sadly he was lost in this area with women. "Miss? Concentrate on my voice, on me, I'm the Doctor, and I'm here to help. I even had a nametag with that on it, how convenient. Your name and mission right there on one little plaque attached to your chest just in case you forgot!" He was rambling; he swallowed, and then smiled as she slowly opened her eyes to meet his.

"What the hell is happening to me?" She managed to get out through gritted teeth the strange man in a bowtie.

He chuckled, "You humans, always getting angry when you're scared. It's remarkable! Just take deep breaths, and concentrate on me."

She did as he said, concentrating solely on his voice, this voice of this man was her lifeline, out of this hell she was feeling. Gradually the overpowering feelings disappeared, and the man's voice occupied her entire mind.

When she opened her eyes, she was met with green ones staring right back at her. Then his entire face swarmed into view, and she let out a raspy "Hello."

The Doctor smiled, "Hello, I'm the Doctor. Who are you?"

She gulped, quite thirsty, "Emmaline Gray, at least I think so. Where are we?" She slowly sat up, taking in the sights of the TARDIS. It was strange, to say the least. This was not any sort of ship she knew.

"We are on my ship." The strange man with the high cheekbones bounced onto his heels and held a hand towards her.

The Doctor helped her up, her head swimming, but she was able to take in what kind of ship he was talking about. It was circular, she stood on a strange glass platform with a dashboard that seemed to be made out of random bits of junk. A typewriter, several cranks, and a strange television made up some of the instruments she could identify. And its pilot, he was tall, well, taller than her at least, lanky, wearing dark pants with a light cream coloured shirt tucked in, red braces, and a burgundy bow tie. His hair was all combed to one side, it was lopsided, but suited him. He looked about thirty, but she had this nagging sense that he was older. He reclined back into a leather chair by the console.

"Your ship? I've never seen a ship like this before. And you're a doctor?" She walked near him, still taking in everything.

He nodded, "Yes, the good ole TARDIS, and I'm just the Doctor. Not a doctor, The. Anyways-"

"Your ship? Are you an alien?" Emmy backed up, "Oh my god, did you probe me?"

"What!" The Doctor's eyes went wide, his hands flailed about, "No! No, no, no, of course not! I mean, I'm an alien, but not _that_ kind of alien! How are you feeling?"

Emmaline gave herself a once over, mentally ticking off a checklist.

"Why did I feel that way? Like I was being crushed to death?" She wondered, shaking the feeling off. It wasn't something she wanted to experience in full force again.

"Oh, it's just the world turning." The Doctor state nonchalantly, turning back to the screen, which had a skeleton, her name, and then many different unidentifiable symbols.

"What do you mean it's the world turning?" She asked, rubbing her head, meeting him at the console.

The Doctor leaned into it, his face lit up in excitement. "It means exactly what it means, it's the world turning. At millions and millions of miles per hour, with the stars shining around it, suspended in this gravity around the burning sun of your solar system. Do you know who you are?" His eyes were dark, his expression unsure of the answer.

Emmy contemplated the answer, "I'm Emmaline Gray, first year medical student. I'm twenty-one years old, I'm from Bath, but I live in London." As she was rattling off these facts, she felt like they didn't belong to her anymore, this description was of some fictional character, one that was not her own. Her skin became flushed as she realized she had no idea who she was.

This man, the Doctor, leaned forward, looking into her eyes, almost examining her. "Emmy, you're not who you think you are. You've been in hiding for who knows how long. And all I know for now is that you are a child of Gallifrey."

Gallifrey. It sparked something completely new inside Emmy. A feeling of home, of belonging.

"Home." She breathed out, her mouth forming completely different syllables than English.

And suddenly that strange man in the bowtie had his arms wrapped around her, laughing, and babbling.

"I haven't heard that language in such a long time!"

Emmy managed a weak smile, her head was spinning, but so many questions were forming in her mind.

"Doctor?"

The strange bowtied man was searching through a box of odd flotsam junk, he looked up at her, hair flopping back into place, "Yes, Emmy?"

She felt her nerves on fire, incredibly overwhelmed, she blurted out "Where is the door in this ship?"

He pointed across the room to a pair of white doors. Emmy immediately ran towards them, pulling it open, and let out a blood curdling scream.

There was nothing beyond those doors but stars. The entirety of space spread out before her, stars and planets, comets whizzing past, all on an infinitely inky black velvet background. Here she was witnessing sights she could only see through a telescope's eyepiece, right in front of her. Emmy fell forward, her foot taking its first step into the unknown. She felt the immense sensation of falling, not enough time to even feel fear. Then a strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back.

"Ever heard of never leaving your seat until the aircraft has come to a complete stop?" The Doctor exclaimed, Emmy's arms wrapped around him for dear life, nearly crushing his ribs.

"And rule number seven, never run when you're scared. Hmm, haven't said that in quite some time."

Emmy let out a sob, feeling pathetic. She was normally such a strong person. At home she was known for the ball-busting confidence, always going into any situation with courage. She had busted her arse through university to be top of her class. She had her choice of medical schools in the country, and was already excelling through the program. She was notorious for memorizing the entire table of the elements, and waltzing through exams like it was second nature to her. She was always in control of everything, but this, being in a strange ship with a man she didn't know, and now it was in space? She was completely unnerved and overwhelmed by everything that she had just experienced.

Emmy buried her face into this Doctor's chest, when she noticed something odd. The dull thumping of his heart was odd, extra contractions, at least from what she could infer from her limited hearing.

"All better?" The Doctor asked.

She pulled back, meeting his eyes. He returned her inquisitive look, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes, Emmy?"

"There's something wrong with your heart." She stated, "You need to go to the hospital."

He just smiled, "No, I don't! Come here," he turned away, grabbing her hand, kicking the doors shut, and lugging her up to the console again.

He fished around, then holding up a stethoscope. He handed it to her, and she put it into her ears, holding up the end. She giving him a questioning look, he nodded his consent, and she pressed the instrument to his chest. She heard one perfectly healthy heartbeat, but there was interference. Her brow furrowed, but he just moved her hand to the other side of his chest, where her eyes grew wide on the realization.

"Two hearts." She breathed out, "That's not possible. That's just not-"

"Of course it is, it is for my race at least."

"Your race?"

"Yours too, here," The Doctor pressed the chest piece to Emmy's chest.

She listened intently, identifying each chamber, but hearing the same interference as she heard on the Doctor. Her breath caught as she moved the piece to the other side. She had two hearts.

"Doctor, before I start to have a panic attack, I need to ask you some questions." Emmy muttered, trying to remain calm. Her mind was reeling, trying to put together pieces that just did not fit.

"Good, I have some explaining to do." He smiled, trying to reassure her. Emmy shook her head, swallowing hard.


	3. Chapter 3: So Many Questions

Chapter 3

Emmy and the Doctor sat on the quilt where this had all began, not even a single second of time had passed since she had left. The wind whipped about them, causing her to shiver. He shrugged his jacket off, wrapping it around her shoulders. She pulled it closer, the scent of musk, and spice wafting from the fabric.

She had made them tea, she quietly sipped hers, watching the strange man dip a Jammie Dodger into his cup, rambling on about how much he adored the biscuit. She watched his long fingers hold the biscuit in such a precise way, the large hands that connected to strong arms. His lips moved quickly, forming the words of his native language, attached to the chin that never seemed to end. His face was so expressive, constantly evolving with every new word, his forehead crinkling, or eyebrows shooting up. And the eyes, those dark green eyes that gave away everything, she could look into them all day and still never understand what a complex mind he had. When she didn't respond to his commentary, he looked at her, waiting for her inquiries.

Emmy sighed, she wondered where to start. "Who are you? Why should I trust you?"

The Doctor leaned back onto the quilt, spreading out his legs. "I'm a Time Lord, from the planet Gallifrey. And trust me? Well, that's your choice."

Emmy considered this, and then continued, "And a Time Lord is?"

"A person who can travel throughout time and space, we see everything that has happened, is happening, and will happen all at once. It is our non-linear perception of time that sets us apart from humans. That and we have two hearts." He said nonchalantly tucking his arms behind his head.

Emmy contemplated this response, "So why did that strange thing happen when I opened my locket?"

"Because," The Doctor pulled Emmy's locket out of his pants pocket and dangled it in front of his face. "This is a fob watch, a device we Time Lords use when we are in dire emergency." He gauged Emmy's response, and then continued. "When Time Lords need to escape, we use these fob watches to put everything we are, um, our essence into the watch. And we are transformed into humans by rewriting our cells. Then we can hide for however long, but we don't know who we are, because our ships gives us new memories, and the fob watch is disguised as some useless inanimate object with a perception filter that prevents us from noticing it. And when we open it, it restores us to our natural state. Understand?"

He placed the locket in Emmy's palm, patting her hand. Emmy placed the locket around her neck, lying back next to him.

She bit her lip, a bad habit she formed during university, mulling over what had been said, and placing the pieces together. "So I am a Time Lord?"

"I believe so, you have two hearts, and your body temperature is running at our normal fifteen degrees Celsius, you know Gallifreyan. In fact, have you not noticed that we've been speaking in our native tongue since you woke up?"

She shook her head, it all felt perfectly natural to her. "How long have I been human?" What a strange question to ask she thought. She was, no is human. No, she is Time Lord.

"When I scanned your locket, the read out said activation age was one year old. So for twenty Earth years you've been human. You must have been sent to Earth for a reason. And of course you don't remember, you were only an infant."

She nodded, not sure if this was a dream. But she placed her hand on her chest and felt two different rhythms, and she could not be mistaken.

"Any more questions?"

"You said that the fob watches were only used in emergency. Why would I need one? Why would I need to open it now?"

"Well, I don't know about the first one. But it seems this solar storm has affected the way most technology has been working, black outs and such. It seems to have lowered the perception filter. So you opened it and restored yourself."

"So I'm not human?"

"I'm afraid not."

"So I'm Time Lord-"

"Or Time Lady if you prefer," he interjected.

"And where is Gallifrey?"

"In the constellation Kasterborous, this is about 250 million light years away from Earth. Past the Milky Way, but within Pisces-Cetus Super cluster complex."

"Oh." Emmy nodded, acting like she understood where that was. "So how did you get here?"

The Doctor's face lit up, "By my TARDIS!"

"And a TARDIS is?" She inquired.

"Time and Relative Dimension in Space. It's my spaceship." He was getting up, offering his hand to her, a wide grin on his face.

She almost said no, almost told him off, almost went back to her flat and slammed the door in this man's face all to wake up in the morning and go to school like she always did, to shake this off as some sort of nightmare. But Emmy's curiosity got the best of her, and even if this was a dream, she reasoned, it would be a pretty good one.

She took the Doctor's hand, and he escorted her across the roof to the big blue box, opening the door. Emmy sized it up, peeking her head into the inside, and comparing it to the outside, then backing up to examine the exterior of the deep blue police box.

"That can't be it." She eventually proclaimed.

"What! Of course it is!" He gave the wooden police box a good pat, and leaned against it.

Emmy put her hands on her hips, "Obviously that enormous interior we were in before doesn't even begin to fit in here."

The Doctor scoffed, "You could just say it's bigger on the inside, you know." He went inside, muttering about some nonsense.

She followed him, "So this takes you anywhere in space?"

He fiddled with some junk on the console, "Yes, of course it does! Any time, any place. Anywhere you want to go, just tell me."

"I don't quite trust this thing, is it really wooden on the outside? How does it not get crushed by the force it takes to break through atmospheres? And the air? There's no way to keep the oxygen supply in here!"

The Doctor looked at her, no one had ever asked these types of questions before, "It's disguised as a police box from 1963, so it's not wooden on the outside. It is a perfectly functional ship with its own oxygen field. Any more questions?"

"Where do those staircases lead to?" She gestured to the stairs that seemed to lead to nowhere."

"Oh you know, the library, the bedrooms, the wardrobe, swimming pool. Anything you want or need." The Doctor fiddled with his controls, antsy to get going somewhere.

Emmy bit her lip, crossing her arms, "So anywhere in the entire universe?"

"Mhm!"

"What about Gallifrey?"

The Doctor's expression turned dark, he whipped around, his back to her. The self hatred was rushing through his veins, and he tried to calm down. He pushed his hair back with one hand, sighing. "No."

Emmy stepped towards him, "Why not?"

The Doctor turned to her, "We just can't go there, okay?" he snapped, his voice echoing across the room.

Emmy read his expression, the wrinkled forehead, the ancient eyes, lips pressed into a line. "Okay, sorry, somewhere else then." He was angry, as far as she could tell.

The Doctor examined Emmy, he could tell he had made her nervous by snapping at her. "There's no need to apologize, you didn't know. Anywhere else then?"

He pulled up a map, but she didn't even bother to look at it.

"The moon." She announced, smiling to herself.

"The moon? Well, that's…" Dull, is what he wanted to say, but he saw the look on her face, and he punched in the coordinates. "Moon it is!"

The TARDIS rattled, then shot off, sending them both to the floor. Emmy yelped, the grabbed onto the chair next to her.

"Is it always like this?" She yelled over the noise.

He laughed, "Yes, of course, you'll get used to it!"

Before she knew it, the screeching noise was back, and they had stopped moving.

The Doctor galloped to the doors, leaning against them, "Are you ready to walk on the moon?"

Emmy stopped, "No suits? There's no air out there!"

"I extended the TARDIS' air shield, so as long as we don't go too far, we'll be okay."

"Oh right." That still didn't calm her nerves.

He held the door open for her, and she slowly let her feet touch the surface of the moon, her breath caught. Oh wow, they were really on the moon. Emmy pinched herself, shaking her head. Moon dust swirled around her feet, she knelt, took a handful, then let if sift through her fingers. It felt light and ashy.

She felt lighter, of course, she rationalized, there's less gravity on the moon, dummy. She took another step. The surface was grey, just like in the photos, the black sky in complete contrast. It was strangely beautiful, how desolate it was. She turned back, seeing the Doctor lean against the door frame of the TARDIS, arms crossed, a small smile on his face. He then stepped out next to her, looking up.

"You know, I've never been here before, well, not voluntarily. That was a mistake." He said, taking a look around. It had been a long time since he was here with Martha Jones in the hospital.

She was afraid to speak, but seemed to be fine, "It's every child's dream, to go to the moon."

"Well, there's one thing to tick off the checklist."

She nodded, turning around, and there was Earth. She immediately felt her hearts swell. It was so beautiful; there was not an adjective in the universe that could describe how blue the ocean was, the burnt orange of the desert lands, and the wisps of white clouds that traveled across its atmosphere. She thought this was home, it is home, she forced herself to think, and it is. And always will be. But she had forgotten that she was another race, oddly accepting it as it was. She thought back to her tiny spot on that planet.

Emmy realized that none of this could be real. A strange man in a bow tie just showing up saying that she was an alien then taking her to the moon? She obviously had too much wine earlier. Maybe something she had saw while watching telly had slipped into her subconscious. Every cell in her body told her this wasn't real.

The Doctor noticed Emmy's face fall, watched her stare at her feet. Normally the companions were more enthusiastic.

"Emmy? Is there something wrong?" he inquired, not quite sure what he was asking.

Emmy swallowed, "This is a dream." She was telling herself more than him.

"What?" he stepped forward, eyebrows raised, "Of course it isn't! I'm real, you're real. We're on the moon, look!" he whipped around, the dust flurried around his feet.

Emmy shook her head, "Of course _you_would say that, you're in my dream." She threw her hands up, and started walking back towards the TARDIS.

The Doctor just looked at her, for once in his life he was completely speechless. She didn't think he was real. He ran his fingers through his hair, then followed her back to the TARDIS, not sure what to think.

Emmy waited for him to unlock the door, breathing a sigh of relief when she entered the TARDIS. She felt better, knowing that there was actual oxygen to breathe despite the extended air shield.

"I suggest you hold on." The Doctor announced, circling the console, pressing buttons and pulling cranks.

They landed back on Earth as quietly as they could, (and knowing the Doctor, that wasn't quiet at all.)

Emmy made her way back to her flat, going down the staircase, the Doctor following her. When they made it to her door, she turned around, against it. The Doctor came forward, eyebrows raised, a question forming on his lips.

"I'm going to go now." Emmy said before he could speak.

"What? Why?"

"I have class tomorrow, but thanks for the trip to the moon." She offered a weak smile, then opened her door.

"Emmy! Wait!" The Doctor exclaimed, sticking his head through the door.

"Yes, Doctor?" She asked, wiping her eyes, the exhaustion hitting her all at once.

"Would you like to come with me?" He proposed, leaning against the door frame, his green eyes sparkling. He reveled in the feeling of asking that question, it had been so long.

"Come with you? To where?" She crossed her arms, a suspicious look on her face. She barely trusted this man. Or did she? She just went to the moon with him. Emmy's head hurt, all of her thoughts in a muddled mess.

"To anywhere, anywhere in the universe, any point in time. That's what I do, I travel. And I would be honored for you to come with me." His eyes lit up, motioning his hands in circles.

Emmy thought for a moment, biting her lip. She just wanted to forget this entire night. She wanted to get up in the morning and go to her classes. She wanted to deal with lectures, exams, stress, and come home exhausted to sip on a glass of red wine and soak in her bathtub. Emmy's rational side was overpowering, as much as she was curious, she was almost sure this was a dream. That made her decision.

"No thank you. Doctor, it was very nice to meet you, but you're just a figment of my subconscious." She went to shut the door, and he slipped inside.

"What if I'm not?" He asked, trying to keep calm.

Emmy is his last hope, she was a Time Lord, just like him. His chest ached at the thought of losing her, even though he barely knew her. He had already lost his entire race, even the Master. But this one young woman, so real, so new, so _alive._ He couldn't leave now, knowing what he knew, knowing that he wasn't alone in this universe. It had been so long since he had heard two hearts beating besides his own, to feel the cool touch of her skin. He never let himself feel this lonely, but now that he wasn't alone, he had never felt the hollow in his chest more than he had now.

Emmy was sure of her decision now, it all made sense. She had a fight with Nick, and she was stressed, so her subconscious made up something extraordinary to distract her from it. Her locket holding a secret alien identity? Please, that was something out of science fiction novels. This time traveling man dressed so ridiculously? Most likely someone she saw on the tube. There was a completely rational explanation.

She shook her head, "But it is, Doctor, don't you see? All of that has happened tonight is improbable. I'm a believer in stone cold facts. And the facts are that there are no aliens from space, and police boxes cannot fly to the moon, nor can humans breathe on the moon. So goodnight!"

The Doctor could tell that this is what she believed, and had nothing really to say. She went to close the door, but just as he was stepping out, he turned.

"Oh, Emmy, one last thing." He started, pulling out his sonic screwdriver.

"Yes, Doctor?"

"May I see your mobile?"

Emmy raised an eyebrow, but fetched it from the table anyway, and handed it over. "Why?"

"If you ever have any questions," He muttered while sonicing the iPhone, "just call me, I will always answer, no matter where I am."

Emmy wondered what the strange instrument was but decided not to ask. She took her phone back, giving him a skeptical look, and moved to the door, opening it for him to leave. The Doctor tried to hide his emotions, swallowing, and stepped into the hallway.

"Goodbye, Doctor."

The Doctor straightened his bowtie, his eyes steaming, and nodded, unable to respond for fear of breaking down in front of her.

Emmy shut the door, leaving the Doctor staring at the door. She immediately went to bed, no dreams this time.

* * *

><p>The Doctor ambled back to his TARDIS shoulders hanging, fingers raking through that floppy hair of his. He unlocked the door of the TARDIS, sighing, sliding down the interior doors. Despite the warm golden glow of the interior, the room had never looked darker. He put his face into his hands, dragging them down his face.<p>

A Time Lord. A bloody Time Lord, on Earth, with a fob watched disguised as a locket, knowing nothing of Gallifrey but the language. He calculated the time, she was sent to Earth just before the great Time War. Her parents must have known, somehow saving their daughter from the end of days for the Time Lords.

Here he was again, the madman and his box, the lonesome Doctor and his ever faithful TARDIS.

"She didn't want to come, dear." He felt he needed to explain to the TARDIS. He had begun speaking to her more often, he had been alone for several centuries now.

The TARDIS seemed to groan in response, and he bowed his head.

"I know, old girl." Tears began to fall. "I know."

He couldn't understand why she thought he was a dream. He was real, damnit. Real. But even he began to doubt that. Could he be dreaming himself? Created a woman out of his isolation? He wondered if he had gone mad. He hadn't had a companion around in such a long time to keep him sane. Perhaps he really had gone off the deep end this time. He shook his head, knowing that Emmy was real, that resonated in his soul. She was real. She was a Time Lord. The echo of her beating hearts swam in his head, along with that beautiful heart shaped face of hers, the dark curls framing her warm hazel eyes.

The Doctor swallowed the rejection, clambering up to the console, tears still streaming down his face. He threw several levers into gear, and the TARDIS took off.


	4. Chapter 4: Departures

Chapter 4

Emmy woke up the next day when the sun was just setting. She cursed, she had missed entire day of class, she was sure to catch hell for it, but tomorrow was a Saturday. How could she have slept through her alarms? She crawled out of bed, padding across the hardwood floors to her bathroom. She splashed water on her face, feeling a bit more refreshed.

She was pouring a glass of orange juice in the kitchen, when she noticed her mobile phone. She picked it up, unlocking it. About ten text messages from classmates, several missed calls, and many more voicemails from her study group. She would worry about that later, perhaps claiming she was sick. She called her best friend Danielle and decided to meet at the neighborhood pub.

While Emmy sipped her martini, half-listening to this guy who was a marketing director, going on about his newest campaign or what not. She fiddled with her mobile, unconsciously going through her contacts.

Emmy's thoughts drifted away to the man in the bowtie from her dream. Such a young age, he looked about four to five years older than her, yet his eyes and demeanor told a different story. How exhilarated she felt when she was on the moon. In her dream, she insisted on telling herself. It was all in her dream. Even the man with the soft green eyes was imaginary.

But she nearly dropped her phone when she saw The Doctor listed in her contacts. There was no number listed, but she knew in her gut that it was him who put it there. She immediately deleted it, turning her phone off, shaken by the experience.

* * *

><p>A year had passed and Emmy had nearly forgotten that strangely vivid dream. She was a second year medical student now, and even more busy than before. She was back together with Nick, as daft as he was, he was nice, and sometimes made Emmy happy. Life was back to normal.<p>

Except it wasn't. Whenever she saw a bowtie she can't help but be reminded of the man in the police box. She even painted her bedroom in the same shade of blue, it was calming to her. Sometime she could swear she could hear the sound of the TARDIS landing, jolting her out of bed to look on the roof. She even saw flickers of the Doctor himself out of the corner of her eye, on the street buying chips, or at the tube station. She was haunted by this dream.

She could even say she was happy at times. She was excelling in school, had wonderful friends, and a boyfriend to go home to every night. According the world she had it all. Yet Emmy felt this enormous gap that couldn't be fulfilled by anything. She found herself grasping onto the locket more, unconsciously rubbing it with her thumb like some sort of luck charm. It never left her neck; she even showered with it on.

One night when she wasn't studying for an exam, Emmy was having an evening to herself. Thankfully Nick was working the night shift. Emmy drew a steaming hot bath, tying her hair into a bun, methodically folding her short silk robe, then she leaned back, rubbing her neck, and soaking in the sudsy water. She cleared her mind, she needed to relax just this once.

She had all but closed her eyes when she heard an enormous crash, coming from the kitchen. Startling, she got out of the bath, wrapping her robe around her, going to her closet and finding her old tennis racket. She held it up, slowing entering her kitchen.

The dishes she had washed earlier were smashed on the floor, and she heard groaning coming from the other side of her table.

"Who's there?" she called out, defensively swinging her racket.

A mumble came from under the table, and suddenly a man in a very torn tweed jacket popped up. His floppy hair immediately went back into place, and he adjusted the damaged bowtie.

"Ah, Emmaline Gray! How nice to see you again!" He cheerfully greeted, like nothing was amiss.

"What are you doing here?" Emmy lost her grip on the racket, it clattered to the floor.

It was the Doctor. _The Doctor. _The figment of her imagination, suddenly animated before her in her kitchen. Her shocked feelings reflected on her face, eyes wide, mouth agape.

"You never called. I was a bit insulted by that, you Earth people and your mobile phones with the twitter and all that mess." The Doctor continued to straighten himself up, but when he realized there had been no reply to his salutation, he looked up, and looked amused.

"Yes, Emmy? Do I look particularly dashing covered in the dust of the planet Crestus?" He brushed his shoulders, puffs of dirt surrounding him.

"You don't- you don't exist!" she managed to splutter out.

"Oh, but of course I do!" The Doctor retorted, still scattering the dirt around her kitchen. He shook his head like a wet dog, then swept it back into place.

Emmy slowly stepped towards him, analyzing his appearance. He looked exactly the same, just very dirty and his clothes were torn to shreds. His bowtie had changed from burgundy to deep blue.

"You can't. You were a dream!" Emmy rubbed her eyes, pinching herself. She was awake now, she had to be.

The Doctor looked concerned, it had been one linear Earth year since he had last spoken with Emmy. He had kept an eye on her, popping in every once in awhile, and always staying near. He looked into her eyes, "Emmaline, I assure you that I am alive, and exist."

She shook her head, "You're a figment of my imagination. I'm dreaming now. I'm not some alien, I'm just Emmy."

"I beg to differ, Miss Gray."

The Doctor grabbed her hands, pressing them to his chest. She flattened her palms against him, feeling the energy rushing through him, the binary cardiac system beating out a cadence beneath her fingertips. She stared at them, concentrating on the feeling.

"I am real." He simply stated.

"And a Time Lord." She gulped, meeting his eyes, which were boring into hers, searching for answers, and trying to reassure her.

He turned her palms towards herself, pressing them to her chest, "And so are you."

She didn't think he was real, it made him sad that she had reduced him to a dream. That the only other Time Lord in the universe refused to acknowledge his existence. She swallowed, still unsure of her own identity. Her lashes fluttered as she listened to her own heartbeats, he could sense the fear that struck throughout her.

"This is real." She whispered to herself, whatever had gone through her mind, it had convinced her that this was reality. She looked up to him, "This is real." She repeated her face the appearance of acceptance.

The Doctor couldn't help but pull her into a hug, his hands wrapping around her waist. He sighed, the wound in his chest that had formed over the past year was healed by her admission. Emmy had come to the realization, for some reason putting complete trust in the Doctor. Things felt right again, as she pressed her face into his chest, allowing herself a small smile. Suddenly she didn't feel so small and insignificant. She felt powerful, liberated, independent, more like her old self. She felt the Doctor bury his face in her hair, and she found that she didn't mind him being so close to her.

"What the hell?" A loud booming voice accompanied by heavy footsteps and jangling keys echoed around the room.

They broke apart, looking to the living room, where a tall muscular bloke in green scrubs stood. Nick had spiky blonde hair and muddy brown eyes. His mouth was pressed into a straight line and his expression was fuming.

"What is this supposed to be, Em?" He asked, dropping his bag to the floor, and coming forward.

Nick sized up the Doctor, just a little taller.

"He's a friend, Nick," Emmy explained, going to the cupboards and pulling out a kettle. "Should I make you a cup of tea?"

Nick looked irate, "Oh don't try changing the subject, Em. Who are you?" he asked the Doctor directly.

"I'm the Doctor." He offered his hand, but Nick ignored it.

"_The _doctor?" Nick sneered, "More like nutty professor. What are you doing here with my girlfriend?"

"I wasn't aware that being friends with Emmy required permission from you." The Doctor retorted, arching an eyebrow.

"It does when I come home to find a strange man alone with her!" Nick stormed over to Emmy, who was filling the kettle with water, the scent of alcohol wafting over to the Doctor. Nick knocked it out of her hands, causing her to shudder.

"Who the hell is he, Em?" Nick got into her face, she softly pushed him away.

"Go to bed, Nick, you're drunk." She went back to placing the kettle on the stove. She avoided the Doctor's concerned gaze.

"Don't tell me what to do." Nick slammed his fist onto the countertop, causing Emmy to jump.

"I'm sorry, love." Emmy put her hands on Nick's shoulders, giving him a quick kiss. "I'm sorry, Nick."

Nick shoved her away, grabbing another beer from the fridge, opening it, leaning against the counter, sizing up the Doctor.

The Doctor watched Nick with disdain, arms crossed, rocking back and forth on heels. "Do you really think you need another one, Nick?" The Doctor sneered, unable to keep his opinions to himself.

"Piss off, mate. Why don't you mosey on home." Nick sneered, letting out a loud belch.

The Doctor looked to Emmy, who was rinsing a spoon over and over again, obviously nervous. "I can't believe you put up with this man!"

"What do you mean, put up with, mate? Em, do you put up with me?" Nick asked, finished with the beer.

Emmy sighed, "Nick, please go to bed."

Nick went into a rage, pitching the beer bottle in Emmy's direction, it burst into pieces upon impact with the wall. Emmy screamed, and the Doctor grabbed her, shoving her behind him, pulling out his sonic screwdriver.

"No woman tells me what to do, you hear me?" Nick bellowed.

"And no woman deserves to be treated this way." The Doctor countered, holding up his screwdriver, even though he didn't know what he would do with it.

Nick grabbed a plate from the sink and chucked it against the wall.

Emmy took the Doctor's hand in hers, and ran to the bedroom, locking the door behind them. The Doctor soniced it, making sure it was secure.

"You said a year ago, that you wanted me to go with you, travel with you." Emmy sputtered out, on the verge of tears. This was the first time Nick had been so violent.

"Yes, Emmaline. The offer still stands." Concern was written all over the Doctor's face.

Emmy nodded, then pulled a suitcase from under her bed, and went to the bathroom, coming back with clothes.

The Doctor waited for her to pack, cringing every time a crash came from the kitchen.

"I'm parked on the roof." The Doctor said, grabbing her suitcase when she was finished.

"We can go out my window," Emmy responded, opening the window, and clambering out onto the roof.

"Oh, so this is how you got out the first time I met you!" The Doctor exclaimed, immediately happy now that she was safe.

She nodded, waiting for him to unlock the door, then waltzed inside.

Emmy sighed, instantly relaxed in the warm glow of the TARDIS. She felt at ease here, even though her past experience wasn't too great.

"Welcome back!" the Doctor declared, slamming the door closed, placing her case on the floor and headed to the console once more.

Emmy followed him, watched him fiddle with buttons, and look at the strange screen.

"Well that's brilliant!" The Doctor muttered, then leaped off, going under the console.

"What's brilliant?" Emmy looked down, realizing that she was on a glass floor. And she was still in her robe.

Incredibly embarrassed, and hoping that the Doctor was too busy to notice, she went down the stairs, grabbing her suitcase.

"Doctor?" She called over to him, "Is there anywhere to change?"

"Your room is down that hallway, to the right, third left, sixteenth door down." The Doctor called out, sitting in some sort of swing below.

"My room?" She asked, feeling quite dumb, taking her suitcase up the stairs. .

"Yes, of course, your room. What did you think I was going to do, stick you in the barracks? This TARDIS can create any room you want, so I hope you like it." He stuck two wires together, a shower of sparks exploding.

The hallways were hexagonal in shape, steel grey and gold. She let out a yelp when she took the third left, and the corridor flipped. She counted the doors as she went, arriving at the sixteenth door. The door opened, finding a spacious room painted the same shade as the TARDIS, the same as her bedroom on Earth. There was a wardrobe across from the bed with pristine white covers, contrasting with the cherry wood of the furnishings. There was a bookcase in the corner, halfway full with what looked like her books from home. She dropped her suitcase, grabbing the first volume of Sherlock Holmes, cracked it open and smell it. It smelt like clove cigars, cologne, and laundry detergent, just like her father. This had to be the same book from her room at home.

She changed quickly into dark jeans, a white t-shirt, and a soft green anorak. She rolled up the sleeves, let her hair down, it falling in soft waves.

Emmy returned to the console room, "Are those my books from home?" she inquired, sitting down on the stairs next to him.

He pushed the goggles off his eyes to his forehead, he had changed into clean clothes, "Yes, I took the liberty of putting them in your room."

"But how did you get them here?"

"Oh, simple time travel." He analyzed her reaction, his brow furrowed, "Would you like me to put them back?"

She beamed at him, "No, thank you very much. They're my favorite things. That um, that means quite a lot to me. Thank you."

He returned her smile, "You're welcome. Just let me fix this mercury dispatcher, and we'll be right on our way."

Emmy walked around the console room, still amazed at the sight. "So where are we going to go?" she called out, pressing keys on the typewriter, and getting a nasty sound in response. She pulled her hand back, hoping he didn't see.

He leaped up from below, "Anywhere you want to go."

"I've never been anywhere, Doctor. Only been out of the country once when I studied abroad," she frowned, "Well, now twice since you took me to the moon. But I have no idea where to tell you. What's your favourite place?"

"Oh, I don't know. They're all my favourite in their own way." He grinned, leaning against the dash.

"Oh come on, that's a boring answer!" Emmy challenged, "I assume you've been travelling for a long time-"

"Nine hundred years, yes." He muttered, Emmy stopped mid-sentence.

"Nine hundred years?" Her eyes wide, mouth agape. "What do you mean nine hundred?"

The Doctor chuckled, "I'm 1,503 years old, Emmy! I thought you knew."

Emmy looked him in the eyes, wondering if he was lying. "No, you can't be. You don't look more than thirty!"

His brow furrowed, "Thirty? Really? That's old!" He swept his hair back, checking his reflection.

"No, 1,503 is old, Doctor!" Emmy snapped back, and the Doctor turned to face her.

Emmy unconsciously put her hands on his cheeks, tracing the lines around his mouth, the deep grooves in his forehead that were even more emphasized when his eyebrows shot up.

"How?" She whispered, almost to herself. People usually only lived to a hundred and fifty these days.

The Doctor just looked at her, wondering how to explain regeneration to her. It was always so easy with the human companions- they would never have to go through the process. But one day, hopefully very far in the future, Emmy would experience it, and he feared that day. It was a painful process, not one that he particularly fond of.

He started slowly, "When my body gets injured, or just old, I have the ability renew myself. It's called regeneration. My entire body changes, I get a new appearance, new personality, new everything. But same Doctor, same soul. It's always me, always will be me."

Emmy took a while to contemplate the information, then nodded. "I can do that too?"

"Yes, all Time Lords have the ability."

"Is there anything else I can do, that I couldn't before?" Emmy was a tiny bit afraid of the answer.

She had accepted that she wasn't human, but to learn that she would live for quite some time, a lot longer than the usual life expectancy was shocking. And that maybe one day she wouldn't look like her, or even act like her was quite a thought in itself.

"Um, well, we have telepathic powers. I can read your mind, you can read mine. We can communicate without ever speaking."

He felt like he was walking on eggshells. He didn't want to overwhelm Emmy. He couldn't imagine growing up human, and then learning that he was something entirely different. Humans are so sensitive to everything.

She gasped, "Have you been reading my mind all of this time?" She backpedalled away from him, not sure what to think.

The Doctor raised his hands, "No, no, no, I wouldn't. Not without your permission. That's just rude."

Emmy swallowed, "Well, thank you, for the privacy." She felt awkward, the blush rising on her chest, up her neck, and settling on her cheeks.

"Can we, uh, can we try it? I've never, never experienced anything like that before." Emmy was stuttering, obviously nervous.

The Doctor's eyes widened, "Of course. Just close your eyes."

She did as he was told, and he stepped towards her, placing his hands behind her ears, and pressing his forehead against hers. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Emmy suddenly felt his presence in her mind. Like he was standing in the back, an afterthought of sorts. Then a thought, a message, an impression of his idea played in her mind.

She gasped, eyes flashing open, taking a step back. She was completely astonished, she smoothed her clothes, unable to meet his gaze, and she felt naked, vulnerable. He was _inside _her mind.

'_I can still hear you.'_

She shrieked, jumped into the air, hands covering her mouth.

He chuckled, but felt terrible when the look on her face was less than amused. "I'm sorry, I won't ever again. I promise." He pressed his lips into a line, running his hands through his hair. "Do you want to go now?"

Emmy nodded, still reeling, she settled into one of the chairs, it was so comfortable. She pulled her knees up to her chest, and watched the Doctor pull cranks, press on a pedal, type in the typewriter, turning into a flurry of action.

The Doctor punched in coordinates for Loca Vi-Orbita, the amazing jungle planet he had heard about long ago. When he landed, he pulled the brake, looking to Emmy who had fallen asleep in the chair.

Time Lords usually had more energy than humans, he thought, but it had been a big day for her, for him too. He wondered if he should disturb her. The position she was in, folded into a little ball, did not look comfortable but her face was peaceful.

He thought about the man back at the flat, her boyfriend. He felt disgusted at the way he had treated her, coming home drunk and making her fear him. He remembered how her hands had shook, afraid to meet Nick's eyes. The Doctor felt anger rush through his veins. Emmy deserved so much more than that.

He looked at her crumpled form and sighed, he couldn't just leave her there. He scooped her up as smoothly as possible, but she didn't surface from her slumber. He carried her to her room, gently placing her upon her bed, slipping the flats off her feet, then covering her with the blanket. He crossed the room to turn out the lamp, then perused her bookshelf. He selected a thick novel, tucking it under his arm. If these were her favourites, then he wanted to know what was so great about them. He paused by the door before leaving, comforted by the fact that he was no longer the last of his kind. What a terrible title that had been, he pondered. He looked back before closing the door behind him, the corners of his mouth turning up. Never had he smiled so much before he had met her.


	5. Chapter 5: First Adventure

Chapter 5

Emmy cracked her eyes open to the sound of her phone ringing. She moans, rolling over, realizing that she's in her own bed. Artificial sunlight filtered through the window, causing her to squint against the brightness.

She searched around the room for her phone, finding it on the dresser. She answered with a raspy greeting.

"EMMY!" Her best friend Dani practically yelled into the phone.

Emmy scowled, holding the phone away from her ear, sitting on the side of her bed. "Dani, could you keep it down? It's early."

"Early? What are you talking about? It's nearly midnight, why aren't you at the pub?" There was music blaring in the background, with the sound of glass drinks, and the murmur of voices.

Emmy rubbed her head, slowly remembering where she was. She wondered how she was going to be able to explain this.

"Dani, I've gone on a trip."

"You should've told me! Where are you? When are you comin' back?" Dani quizzed.

Emmy racked her brain for a location, "Australia. We're in Australia. And I'm not sure."

"I didn't know Nick liked travelling. I thought he was more of the telly type."

"No, no, no." Emmy sputtered, "I'm _not_with Nick."

"Good, you know exactly how I feel about him, Em. I told you." Emmy could hear the contempt dripping off of her words. "But if you're not with Nick, then who is we?"

"Oh, um, a friend." Emmy chewed on her lip. "The Doctor-I mean, a doctor."

"Oooooooh, Emmy, already moving on with a proper doctor! Is he hot?" She could tell Dani was raring for details, like she always was.

Emmy thought of the man with the lopsided hair, clad in suspenders and bowties. "It's not like that, Dani. He's a friend."

"Oh. Well, I hope your trip is good, darling." Dani sounded disappointed with the lack of saucy details, "Let me know the very minute you're back, okay?"

"Yeah, thanks, Dani. I'll keep in touch, alright?" Emmy wondered if Dani could even fathom what was beyond her little bubble in central London, nevertheless beyond Earth.

"Love you, girl. I've got to go. There's a CEO coming my way."

Emmy laughed, "Love you too. Bye."

She hung up her phone, wondering how it even worked in space. She felt a little homesickness for her friend. There would be no more late night runs to each other's flats, or girl's night when one was getting over a break up. Which is what she kind of needed right now.

She gathered her things, going down the hall to one of the bathrooms. One of thirty-seven, she thought she head the Doctor mention.

She entered the room, startled at the sight. A room the size of a football pitch tiled in sparkling onyx-like stone, with an enormous pool sized bath, and accompanying shower. There was a wall of mirrors, framed in gold. She picked up a towel, finding it to be the softest material she had ever felt, and it was warm, glowing a soft orange colour.

She shed her clothes, stepping into the shower, too afraid to get near the bath. It was already full with water, and she couldn't see the bottom. She instead closed the glass doors behind her, facing a wall with buttons with labels for different types of soaps. She turned on the water, and made her selection.

* * *

><p>The Doctor laid under the console, trying to connect two wires together. The blasted blasters had gone out <em>again<em>, the third time this month. He tightened screws, connecting wires, and hoped that his efforts were successful. He was about done, when a screw dropped onto his face, his efforts were useless, causing him to curse quite colourfully, flail about, and come out from under the console. He sat up quickly, hitting his head in the process.

"BLAST IT ALL TO HELL!" he yelled, frustrated with his work. Hopping up and pressing the blaster button on the console, rubbing his forehead.

He heard giggling from behind him, whipped around, and saw Emmy, hand covering her mouth, stifling a laugh. She looked positively radiant, hair tied half way up, wearing a blue long-sleeved shirt, dark khaki trousers, and riding boots. Her hazel eyes examined him.

He felt heat rising up in his chest, spreading to his face.

"Oh, Emmy! Wonderful wonderful Emmy! So glad that you're awake." He stammered out, trying to save face. She had just caught him in one of his lower moments.

"Morning, Doctor. Are you alright?"

"Oh yes, fine." He rubbed the spot on his head, and winced. "How are you?" he leaned against the console, crossing his arms.

The sight of the Doctor brought a smile to Emmy's face, tweed jacket missing, sleeves rolled up, and shirttails amiss. He had grease all over his hands, and a bit smudged on his nose.

"I'm great. You've got a little-" she pointed at her nose, and he whipped around, wiping his nose with a handkerchief, then cleaned his hands.

She grinned, "Have we landed somewhere?"

"Yes! I thought you might want to see Loca Vi-Orbita. It's a jungle planet, one of the most infamous in the universe. We should be in the 51st century." He leaped down the doors, grabbing his tweed off the coat rack and slid it over his shoulders.

Emmy gasped, following him to the door, "Fifty-first? Century? Let's go!"

The Doctor leaned against the door, facing Emmy. "But a couple rules first. We _only_ observe, got it? No interfering?"

She nodded, "Right, no stepping on butterflies, eh?" She smiled warmly.

He returned it, "You're going to love this!" He whipped the door open.

His face immediately fell as the surroundings were nowhere near jungle-like, inherently knowing that something was incredibly wrong. A bustling city rose above them, smokestacks belched terrifying dark green smoke that blocked out the sky. The stench was foul, making them both cough. People with a slight green to their skin rushed by, dressed in jumpsuits of varying colours.

Emmy turned to the Doctor, hands on her hips, arching an eyebrow, "I'm going to guess this isn't Loca Vi-Orbita."

The Doctor's brow furrowed, pulling out his sonic screwdriver and pointed it around. "I'm afraid not. Same coordinates though," he read the results from the screwdriver, then checked his watch, "Sixty first century. We're ten thousand years late. This is in fact Loca Vi-Orbita though. What happened to all the jungle?"

Emmy eyed the people walking down the street. "What about the green people?"

The Doctor passed his screwdriver over a woman walking past, and then examined the results yet again, "They're human alright. But I'm not sure why they're green." He grabbed Emmy's hand, "Let's find out why."

He begins to step out into the street, but is knocked back by a man in a navy blue jumpsuit. An enormous truck passes by, honking.

"You need to watch out, mate." The man with silver hair warned, and then turned to go on his way.

"Thank you. I was wondering, wasn't this planet covered in jungle ten centuries ago?" The Doctor questioned.

The man laughed, "Where have you been? The Incendia Corp has been here since 4890. They colonized this entire planet."

"What's with the jumpsuits?" Emmy asked, stepping forward. She had never seen such a strange colour of skin. It was the shade of spinach.

"Each colour symbolizes which department of Incendia Corp you work in. Mine, navy blue means Electrics. Black is administrative, red is Harvesting, and so forth." The man's blue eyes examined the two travellers. "I'm guessing you two aren't from around here."

The Doctor flashed something in front of the man's eyes, "No, just back from a trip. We work in Administration. Take us there, will you?" He slipped the thing inside his jacket again, and the man nodded.

"Come with me, then." The man raised his eyebrows, but turned and started down the sidewalk again.

"Oh, and sir?" The Doctor questioned.

The man turned, eyes hard, "Yes?"

"What is your name?"

"Greg, sir."

"Thank you, Greg."

The Doctor and Emmy followed, Emmy leaning into the Doctor and whispered, "What was that?"

"What? What was what?" They stayed a couple paces behind Greg.

"That thing? The thing you flashed in front of Greg." Emmy pondered, watching as the Doctor pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to her.

"Psychic paper. I just told him we were part of Incendia Corporation."

Emmy opened the booklet, watching the blank paper dance with symbols then returned it. "And he just believed it?"

The Doctor grinned, "Of course! He saw what he wanted to believe. It's all in the mind, you see."

"Do you think we'll figure out what that smoke is?" Emmy pointed up to the smokestacks, where the sinister evergreen smoke poured into the sky. It made her throat burn, there was something wrong about it, gave her chills.

"I have a few theories," The Doctor soniced the air once more, following Greg down a flight of stairs into a cavernous train station. He offered his arm to Emmy, and she gladly took it.

"None of which I hope are true." He grimaced, thinking of all the terrible possibilities.

They followed Greg onto a platform, in which a steel grey train waited. Everything was a shade of grey, from the tracks, to the lights, the tiles of the floor, the screens that displayed adverts in greyscale. Greg led them onto one of the trains labelled Capitol. They stood out like a sore thumb; every jumpsuited citizen giving them an alarmed look, then guided their eyes back to the floor.

"Why does everyone look so afraid, Doctor?" Emmy asked, shoulder to shoulder with him in the packed train car. Greg was next to them, staring at the screen announcing the stops.

"Look at them, Emmy, what do you see?" The Doctor examined his surroundings.

She took a moment, taking in a woman's facial expression. Emmy's brow furrowed as she explained, "It's like, I don't know, they know something. But it's something no one talks about."

"Exactly, Emmy. That's exactly what it is. This is not a normal colony. Notice that there's not any children, there should always be children. And everyone is working, almost too hard I should think. But why? Out of fear? Out of oppression?"

The train shuddered to a stop, and Greg moved to the door. Emmy and the Doctor quickly got up to follow. Greg led them onto the platform, to an escalator. Upon leaving the station at street level, they entered a towering building that was the origin of the menacing green smoke. Columns of it pumped out of the roof of the building from chimneys. It made their stomachs turned as they followed Greg into the building.

It was a drab, grey, structure, certainly a very depressing place to work, Emmy thought. The busting flow of the lobby carried them along to the lifts. After flashing his credentials once more at the security guards, which startled Emmy.

"Doctor, their guns. They have enormous guns, if we get caught-" She was interrupted by his finger pressed against her lips.

"Shh, Emmy, thinking now. The guns are not an issue-"

"But Doctor, what if they find out that we don't actually work-" she was interrupted yet again by his finger.

"Please, Emmy, shush! Do you really think that those dummies with the guns could ever guess that we didn't belong?"

Emmy looked down at their clothes, arched an eyebrow. "Actually, Doctor, I do. We need some of those jumpsuits as soon as possible."

He did the same, straightening his bowtie, eyebrows arched. "You may actually be right."

The life opened, and Greg escorted them in, and it shot off like a rocket.

The Doctor slapped his hand on Greg's shoulder, "Greg, boyo, tell me, what is this building here?"

Greg gave him a strange look, "It's the main production facility and administration headquarters."

The Doctor nodded, "And it produces?"

Greg seemed hesitant to tell the bow-tied man, but continued anyways, "Everything. We take the forest and turn it into fuel, our food, our technology, our buildings. We live off of the land, literally."

The lift continued to climb, and Emmy felt claustrophobic in the dimly lit cylinder. The guard operating the lift kept eyeing Emmy and the Doctor, his finger on the trigger of his gun. Finally, the life shuddered to a stop, opening to a steel walk way that crossed over vats of the offending green smoke.

The Doctor immediately hopped off, much to the protests of Greg, who insisted that this wasn't their stop. Emmy followed, along with many other workers. Greg was unable to get off the lift, and he was sent up with the rest of the occupants.

The Doctor placed his hands on his hips, surveying the area, brow furrowed and jaw clenched. Emmy stood next to him, letting the crowd of workers pass them. The cavernous dark building had conveyor belts with enormous logs on them, passed through a machine, that turned the logs into a fine powder, which was then deposited into the vats to become the venomous mixture. The smoke was thicker here, and Emmy found it much more difficult to breathe, her throat ablaze, yet the workers seemed to have no trouble.

Emmy was looking over the hand rail down at the vats, when she saw the Doctor dash past her out of the corner of her eye. She caught up quickly, matching his pace.

"So they're just turning their trees into whatever they need. I mean, it's certainly not eco-friendly, but if that's what works for them." Emmy rationalized, following the Doctor down the stairs to the main floor with the vats.

The Doctor took out his sonic screwdriver, passing it over everything, then he read the results. His face became grave. "The trees are alive."

"What?"

He ran along to the conveyer belt with the logs, soniced them, "The trees are alive!"

"Doctor, they can't be alive, those trees have been cut down-"

He fiddled with the sonic once more, pointing it at the log, and a horrendous blood curdling scream filled the air. Emmy immediately clamped her hands over her ears, and the entire factory came to a stop.

The Doctor put down his screwdriver. "Do they sound dead, Emmy? This planet was once filled with an entire forest, and these trees, oh they're no ordinary trees. They're sentient! They can feel everything. Which means, which means, which means relatives of the Forest of Cheem! Old Earth Trees. Love a walking tree! They have, quite literally, roots everywhere, Emmy. They eventually evolve into a humanoid-tree-like species. But these are in the beginning stages of the evolution! Oh that's brilliant! What a wonderful race they become!"

"But they're deforesting the planet, Doctor, so that means-"

"Exactly, that means destroying a sector of the Forest of Cheem. Does that mean-"

"Genocide?" Emmy whispered, looking around at the factory.

The Doctor just simply nodded in response, fists and jaw clenched. An entire race, albeit of trees, but a spectacular race to begin with, and eventually to what they become.

"So what do we do, Doctor?" Emmy asked, as the factory returned to the task at hand.

The Doctor turned away from her, rubbing his hands together. Lay low, you've been dead to the universe for over two centuries now, no need to make a comeback now. But the Doctor couldn't help but think of Jabe, the woman who assisted him when he took Rose to see the end of the Earth. The Forest of Cheem respected all life forms, why couldn't he? Of course he did, but what were the repercussions of letting Incendia Corp continue?

There was a loud familiar, gut wrenching sound, the sound of a lot of guns being cocked. The Doctor looked at Emmy, who had her hands above her head, eyes wide and looking at the catwalk above them.

"Doctor!" She said calmly, but he could tell she was afraid.

The Doctor slowly turned, raising his hands above his head. "Oh, that's a problem."

At least thirty guards lined the railing, guns ready to go. And in the midst of them, a man in a suit calmly stood, looking down upon them.

"Oh, you think, Doctor?" Emmy grumbled under her breath.

The Doctor couldn't help but chuckle, looking at the man in the suit. He was large, obviously the owner of Incendia Corp. He had eyes that could pierce even from the platform above. And strangely, his skin did not have a green tint to it.

"Would my intruders like to introduce themselves?" the man bellowed, holding his hands out.

Emmy and the Doctor looked at each other, Emmy looking a little flustered, but still cool.

"I'm John Smith, chief inspector of the factories. This is Emmaline Gray, my assistant." He held up his psychic paper, hoping it would work.

"I believe you are mistaken, Mr. Smith. We have no need for inspectors here. Guards, grab them."

The suited man walked away, as the uniformed guards swarmed down the staircase, surrounding Emmy and the Doctor.

"What are we going to do now?" Emmy hissed, as she was being handcuffed.

"I've got a plan." The Doctor reluctantly complied, letting the guards drag them up the stairs to the lift.

"Then what is it?" Emmy tried to shake off the tough grip under her arms, but the guard just held on tighter.

"Not sure, it's still cooking. I'll get us out of this, don't worry!"

"Still cooking." Emmy muttered under her breath, shaking her head.

They were forced into the lift, with Emmy fearing for her life, and the Doctor chuckling. The lift began to climb, and Emmy couldn't help but be aware of the cold end of a gun in the centre of her back.


	6. Chapter 6: Sinclair

Chapter 6

The lift finally opened, and Emmy breathed a sigh of relief. The guards forced them forward, leading them to a dimly lit hallway. The stench of the emerald smoke was gone, and Emmy's throat no longer burned. She kept her eyes on the Doctor in front of her, he walked calmly, as if this was a normal day for him. He kept trying to make small talk with the guards, complimenting them on their uniforms, and asking them random questions. Despite the situation, Emmy found herself smiling a little bit.

They reached two doors, which were opened, and Emmy's guard shoved the nuzzle of his gun into her spine.

"Hey! Okay, I'm going, I'm going." She exclaimed, shooting him a look of disdain.

They stepped into an office, made of dark steel, with cavernous ceilings, and enormous windows showing how high above the city they were, yet the view was mostly impeded by the venomous smoke. In the centre sat a desk, with the suited man standing in front of it. His steel grey eyes matched his hair, his face emotionless, as he crossed his arms in front of him. The Doctor and Emmy were placed side by side, the guards backing away.

"Where is Greg?" The Doctor asked voice strong and steady.

The suited man looked at his nails, "Oh the electrician? He's been detained, he'll be executed tonight." He then looked up at the Doctor, smiled, and continued, "That's what we do to traitors."

"Traitors to what? This is a company, not a government." Emmy countered, hearts beating fast.

"And you have trespassed on company property, of which I am the owner of. Cecil Sinclair. How do you do?" He crossed in front of the pair, offering his hand. "Oh, sorry, a little handcuffed, are we? Now tell me, _John Smith_, how did you and your beautiful little assistant here get onto my planet?" He held Emmy's chin in hand, turning her face side to side.

"That doesn't matter, Sinclair. Are you aware that the forest you're cutting down is a part of the Forest of Cheem?" The Doctor tried to stay as diplomatic as he could.

"Forest of Cheem?" Sinclair rolled the name around, his icy eyes staring down the Doctor. "No, don't really care."

"It's a race." Emmy started, looking at the Doctor. He nodded, encouraging her. "They're trees, but eventually they evolve into a human-like race. You're killing them."

"It's genocide. So I'm going to give you two options, Sinclair. Find some other energy source, anything but the trees, if you can find one, you can stay. Or, you leave, and never come back." The Doctor offered, standing tall, he looked to his side at Emmy. She met his eyes, looking a little worried, he returned with an assuring nod.

"I'm not one for negotiation, sorry that you think I would be. I'm not leaving this planet anytime soon, not until every single tree is gone. Now, you can go join Greg in the holding cells. See you at sunset." Cecil wiped his hands, turning back to his desk, as the guards encircled Emmy and the Doctor before they could protest.

* * *

><p>Emmy and the Doctor rubbed their wrists, as they watched the cell doors being closed in front of them. It was dark and damp, what looked like a toxic slime version of the smoke dripping from a crack in the wall. Emmy wrapped her hands through the bars, looking up and down the hallway, but couldn't see much.<p>

The Doctor turned to Emmy, whose brow was furrowed, chewing on her bottom lip, and rubbing her arms against the damp chill.

"Don't worry, I've got a plan." He tried to reassure her.

"Do you always have a plan?" she asked, laughing a bit.

"Of course I do, I'm the Doctor! But they took my sonic screwdriver." The Doctor patted his jacket, scoffing in dismay.

Emmy pulled a couple pins from her hair, holding them up, "I haven't done it in awhile, but I can try."

"Emmaline Gray, you've picked locks before?" The Doctor wanted to sound scolding, but he was pleasantly surprised.

She knelt to the lock, sticking one pin in, "Oh nothing too criminal. You know, sneaking back late at night past curfew, all of that." She gave the Doctor a bashful smile, and concentrated on her work.

Emmy bit her lip, twisting the pins until she heard a satisfying click, and slowly opened the cell door. "Yep, still got it."

"Oh, Emmy, you are brilliant!" The Doctor praised, tapping Emmy's nose.

She waited to hear an alarm, or a rush of guards, but nothing came. They slowly exited the cell, shutting the door behind them, wary of making too much noise. They started down the hallway, no sign of Greg in the jail. Emmy kept watch as the Doctor rifled through a box of random items.

"AHA!" The Doctor hollered, and clamped his hands over his mouth. They looked at each other in fear, waiting for the pounding of footsteps, but they never came. The Doctor pulled his sonic screwdriver out of the box, kissing it then slipping it into his pocket.

They ran down the hallway, stopping in a closet to pull on the dark green jumpsuits of the factory workers, pulling the hoods over their heads.

"What do we do now, Doctor?" she asked as she zipped her suit.

"What I always do, we're going to save the forest." The Doctor swung the door open, and sprinted down the hallway.

They stopped at the lift, sonicing it open. The Doctor shooed everyone out, including the guard with the gun, hoisting the sonic screwdriver aloft. The guard called on his radio, saying that the suspects were out. The doors closed in front of him before he could get his gun up.

Emmy and the Doctor caught their breath as the elevator climbed, wondering if the elevator would come to a stop.

"So Emmaline Gray, is that what you imagined when you said you would travel with me?" The Doctor quizzed, arching an eyebrow, a silly smile on his face.

Despite fearing for her life, Emmy found herself grinning back, "No. It's much more...exciting than the Moon, to say the least." She answered, eyes back on the numbers that rose quickly. "Doctor, they're going to find us."

"I know, don't worry about it." He was messing with his screwdriver, trying to find the right setting.

"Don't worry about? Countless guards with enormous guns and you tell me not to worry about it. Alright." Emmy huffed under her breath.

"Just follow me, you'll be just fine." The elevator was one floor away, the Doctor turned to Emmy, "Do you trust me?"

Emmy examined the hand extended to her, then up at him, "Yes." She took it.

"Good." The elevator dinged, the doors opening.

They sprinted across the way, guards closing in on them, almost reaching them. The Doctor soniced the doors to the factory open, then swiftly soniced them closed behind them. From the other side of the door, Emmy could hear gun fire, but the Doctor was already dashing down the stairs, and Emmy decided the guards couldn't get in, at least for now. She followed his path, to see him scrutinizing the gauges on the vats, rambling about percentages and physics.

He then pointed the screwdriver at the gauges, watching the temperature and pressure rise. There was an enormous boom from above, and the guards found them quickly, guns already in position.

"You shoot, and I'll blow everything to pieces." The Doctor proclaimed, sonic screwdriver aloft.

Emmy held her hands up, "Really? That was your plan?" she asked quietly.

"Brilliant isn't it?" he responded, laughing.

The ever so lovely Cecil Sinclair appeared from the path of guards, "Oh, Doctor, great to see you again, I see you're quite fond of our vats."

"Stop production and I won't blow your factory up."

Sinclair chuckled, "I'd like to see you try."

The Doctor activated the screwdriver again, and the ground began to tremble. "I'd say you have about ten minutes until this entire factory goes up. Your call, Sinclair."

Emmy watched as a small crack in the concrete floor started next to her, snaking its way across the floor. "Uh. Doctor!" she called out, as more cracks splintered their way across the floor.

"Well, maybe about five minutes, actually. So make your choice Sinclair. I blow up the factory, or you stop? Simple enough, eh?"

Sinclair watched as the cracks in the foundation reached his feet, the bubbling green liquid starting to bleed through. He lost his cool demeanour, "Okay, okay! We'll stop!"

The Doctor increased the temperature and pressure, causing a quake to run through the entire building, "And you'll replant the jungle? And leave when you are finished, never to return again?"

Sinclair covered in sweat, eyes wide in fear, "Yes! Yes! We'll do it! Please, stop!"

The Doctor lowered his arm, satisfied. The rumbling came slowly to a halt. He stripped of his suit, and Emmy followed his moves. He swaggered over to Sinclair, who looked at him in awe.

"Don't lie to me, Sinclair. I'll be back to check on you." The Doctor pointed a finger in Sinclair's chest.

Sinclair just nodded, gulping. The Doctor and Emmy pushed through the crowd of guards, climbed the stairs, and looked back on top of the runway. Sinclair pointed at them, and the guards held their guns, shots firing. The Doctor pushed Emmy down, pointing the sonic screwdriver at the vats yet again, one of them overflowing, steam coming from the shaking pipes. With the guards successfully distracted, the Doctor and Emmy ran from the factory, taking the lift, and sprinting out of the building as fast as they could.

* * *

><p>The Doctor flew the TARDIS away from the mess, as Emmy held onto the console, trying not to fall.<p>

"What about Space Florida? Or Cluster Five? No, that's shut down for renovations; it's an entire planet of hamster tunnels, except for people. I'm sure it's quite exciting when it's finished." The Doctor threw the parking brake, typing in a couple letters on the typewriter, and looking at the screen.

"Can we see if Sinclair kept his promise?" Emmy asked, absolutely curious.

"Of course." The Doctor smiled to himself, and piloted the TARDIS.

He darted to the doors, whipping them open, and stared down. Emmy came up beside him, cautiously peeked her head out.

"See? Fifty years from today." The Doctor pointed a new crop of trees, strong and tall, "That's where the factory used to be. New trees, new life, saved the Forest of Cheem. Pretty good day, eh, Gray?"

Emmy peered down, satisfied at the view, "Yeah, pretty good day. Should I put the kettle on?"

"Or we can go have tea with the Queen?" The Doctor proposed.

"Which one?" Emmy shut the door behind them as the Doctor pounced back to the console.

"Oh any one! Queen Bess, well, maybe not, I haven't been back in awhile, she's probably not very happy with me. Or even Anne Boleyn if you like!"

The Doctor threw the TARDIS into gear, and Emmy held on as tightly as she could.


	7. Chapter 7: Leading Light

Chapter 7

Emmy walked among a forest, pausing to feel the deep red grass between her toes. She gazed up through the tree's silver shining leaves that reflected the deep burning orange of the sky. The first sun was just setting, the sky ablaze in streaks of crimson and gold. The wind wound its way between the trees, wrapping itself around Emmy, blowing her hair and dress around. She laughed, content, happy to be home. She closed her eyes, letting the warmth of the rising second sun fill her, listening to the music of the wind in the trees. But something tugged inside her, her back tingling. Someone was watching her.

"Emmy!" A voice rang out behind her.

She whipped around to see who the owner of the voice, but no one was there.

"Emmy!" This time right beside her, she searched the trees intently, brow creased in confusion, hands on her hips.

"Hello?" She called out uncertainly, receiving no response. "Hello!" She shouted again with more confidence.

"Emmy." A gust of hot breath on her neck, whispered into her ear. She started, shrieking, turning to see the owner, but she was met with just the view of the path that travelled through the trees.

"Whoever you are, this isn't funny!" She cried out, wondering where the Doctor was. He would know, he always knew everything.

She could feel the dark presence all around her, funnily enough, the sky seemed to be turning to dusk. She felt trapped, backing into a tree, not sure where to run. A fog crept along the forest floor, slowly inching its way toward Emmy. A dark tall hooded figure appeared from the fog, striding its way to Emmy, its features hidden by the hood, onyx armour binding its body. It stretched a gloved hand, wrapping it slowly into a vice around Emmy's throat, no time for her to call out.

* * *

><p>The Doctor shoved another Jammie Dodger in his mouth, and continued to tinker with the halogen sprinklers. Emmy was asleep, even though she was a Time Lord; her time under the perception filter had her body accustomed to a normal human sleep cycle. He wasn't aware of this in the beginning, and often got a very grumpy Emmy in the few times he woke her up in the middle of the night by mistake. He continued to work, but a bone chilling scream rang out. He dropped all of his tools, dashing up the stairs and around the corner. He tore the door open, to see Emmy cocooned in her sheets, enraptured in a nightmare, screaming his name. He went to her, tenderly placing his hands on each side of her face.<p>

"Emmy, wake up!" He commanded, utterly distressed. "Emmy, it's just a dream, now wake up!"

Her eyes slowly fluttered open, and upon recognising him, she sat up, drawing the sheet up.

"Doctor, what are you doing?" she reached a hand to her face, wiping the sudden tears, heat rising to her cheeks.

"You were having a nightmare. I just-Are you alright?" he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Emmy stared down at her hands, her fingers still trembling, "Yeah," she lied, pulling her hands under the sheets, still feeling like those gloved hands were choking her. "I'm okay."

The Doctor could tell that she wasn't, but he didn't want to push her too far. "Alright, I'll see you in a bit for breakfast?" He gave her a small reassuring smile, patting her shoulder, and stood up, straightening his bowtie.

"Yeah, sure." Emmy hollowly replied, listening to him shut the door behind him.

Emmy snuggled down in her bed, staring out into nothing, the details of her dream escaping her quickly, the planet on fire, the form in the fog all slipping away, leaving only the feeling of overwhelming dread.

* * *

><p>Emmy curled up in the chair next to the console, contemplating her nightmare, half listening to the Doctor babble on and on, something she had gotten quite used to after three months of travelling with him. He continued on about stars, how he's "seen many come and go, and I once broke down on a star, which is apparently possible, but it started to eat away at the exterior shell of the TARDIS, and I only had thirty seconds to reconnect the purple spark plugs to get out of there. It was incredibly exciting. And terrifying."<p>

The Doctor turned to fiddle with something on the screen when he caught Emmy out of the corner of his eye. She had her knees drawn up to her chest, her gaze concentrated on somewhere in the recesses of her mind, face incredibly sorrowful, crimson lips pursed, brow furrowed, he watched as her eyelashes gently fluttered on her damp cheeks. He couldn't help but feel his chest tighten; he's not very good at comforting. The last time he was supposed to comfort someone, she kissed him. Her eyes met his, filling with tears. But she wiped her eyes quickly, cheeks flushing scarlet, embarrassed that he saw her like this. She turned away from him, getting up, and starting down the stairs.

"Emmy! No, no, no," he scrambled after her, catching her arm, and gently turned her to face him. "Please, don't run. Rule number seven."

She shook her head, wiping her cheeks again, taking a shaky breath to hold back her tears, "Please, Doctor. I'm fine." She tried to insist, even though her voice betrayed her.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows, softly shook his head, not believing one word.

Emmy couldn't stop her tears this time, she just turned away, squeezing her eyes shut, wrapped her arms around herself, to try to stop the sobs from wracking her body. She had bottled up her feelings for just too long; her identity pulled out like rug from under her, the fact that they had been on many adventures, and had _yet_ to visit Gallifrey, she missed Dani the most, Dani was the family that she never really had, and the occasional phone calls barely made up for all the times that she wasn't in London with her. The Doctor reached out awkwardly patting her arm, she turned to him, wrapping her arms around him and wept openly into his chest. He stepped back, a bit flustered, not sure what to do with his arms, but he encircled her waist with one arm, and stroked her hair with the other. He lost count of how long they stood there; he concentrated on the feeling of silk running through his fingers, and the feeling of her warm breath on his throat. Emmy took a deep breath, pulling away from the Doctor's embrace, timidly looking away, and dried her face. He looked concerned, brow furrowed, eyes examining her.

"Thanks," she said, staring at her shoes, "I, uh, I needed that."

He grinned at her, blushing a bit, "You're welcome. You know what I'm in the mood for?"

"What?" Emmy's cheeks were bright red.

"Hot chocolate." He took her by the shoulders, leading her back to her chair, and set her in it. "I'll be right back, do not move!" He took off, sprinting up the stairs.

Emmy waited for only a few minutes, trying to make herself not look like a complete wreck. Before she knew it, the Doctor came slowly down the stairs, carrying two mugs, concentrating very hard on not spilling them, but was failing miserably. He handed her a mug, leaning against the console.

Emmy wrapped her hands around the warm mug, taking a sip, relishing in the heat spreading through her body, then a surprising heat going down her throat. She coughed, looking into the cup, "What is this, Mexican hot chocolate?"

He took a sip of his own, "No, Aztecan, well, yes Mexican if you think about it, but the Aztecs came first." he replied nonchalantly. Then clapped his free hand over his mouth, eyes wide, "Oh no, I'm not proposing to you!" He yelled, face flushed.

Emmy cracked a smile, "Doctor, how in the world is hot chocolate a proposal?"

"Well," The Doctor took a deep breath, still embarrassed at his stupidity; he should have grabbed the chocolate without the chilli pepper. "A long time ago, I was in Mexico, in 1454. And I shared a cup of hot chocolate with a woman, which apparently meant I intended to marry her. Which was not the case, at least on my part."

"Oh no!" Emmy giggled, covering her mouth, "So did you marry her?"

"No! Of course not!"

"Well, don't worry, Doctor. I have no intentions of being married to you." She giggled once more, taking another sip. "Thanks, again."

"You're welcome." He felt his cheeks hurting from smiling, something he just wasn't used to after spending so many centuries alone. An idea formed in his head, "Want to see something spectacular?"

"Of course!" Emmy responded, and he shoved his mug into her hand, hot chocolate sloshing over the edge.

He tapped her on the nose, and threw the TARDIS into gear, piloting it to one of the most beautiful spots he knew of.

"A star nursery, specifically 30 Doradus. It's quite near Earth, actually, part of the Tarantula Nebula. NASA sent a satellite to it some time ago; I believe it was called Hubble. "

He led her by her shoulders to the TARDIS doors, opening them, and setting her down, letting her legs hang out. He settled down next to her, admiring the sight before them.

The nebula was spread out in front of them, a safe distance away, but if you looked close enough, you could see new suns being born. It was spectacular, swirls of creamy white and burnt red against the inky navy canvas of the sky. Millions upon millions of stars begged for attention, each one individually striking. Even the Doctor felt miniscule in its presence.

After admiring the nebula for awhile, Emmy sighed, "Doctor, can I tell you something?"

The Doctor rubbed his hands together, "Of course."

Emmy ran her fingers through her hair, "I've been thinking a lot, about how I'm not human, how I was never human. Even though I grew up on Earth, learned the language, the customs, everything, and all  
>I have ever known is human. And there's nothing wrong with that. But ever since you came, and you showed me who I really am, I've realised that everything I've ever known is a lie. My parents, my family, they're not my real family. All the traditions that I know, they're not even mine. And I look back at my life now, and I realise how much I did not belong. But I don't belong here either."<p>

The Doctor looked at her at that, brows furrowed. "Of course they're your parents, they raised you, didn't they? They still love you, so do your friends."

"But they don't know! And I don't think I could ever tell them, they'd probably lock me up and probe me."

The Doctor sniggered, "That's true, and they probably would. But you belong here, with another Time Lord."

She huffed in frustration, "I know, but that's just a label. I know nothing about Time Lords, I just feel like if we went to Gallifrey, met some other Time Lords-"

"I don't think that's a good idea, Emmy." He straightened his bowtie, voice darkening.

She turned to him, "Why not? Don't you ever want to go home, Doctor?"

He swallowed his throat dry, "I haven't been home in a long time, Emmy. And I don't plan on returning."

Her brow furrowed, "Then you can just drop me off for the day, right? I can find my way around. Maybe I could find..." she trailed off, dismissing the thought.

"Find who, Emmy?"

"My family." She said softly, without any hope in her voice.

The Doctor ran his hands through his hair, jaw tightened. He couldn't tell her, how would she ever trust him again? She would certainly ask to go back to Earth, who would want to travel with the murderer of their own race? But she deserved to know, he needed to be honest with her, if she put her complete trust in him, the least he could do would be to tell her the truth. But was he brave enough to let her go a second time?

"We'll visit one day soon, Emmy."

Selfish old man.

Her eyes lit up, and he hated himself for taking her complete trust for granted. But he felt relief, for he knew she would be by his side for now.

"Feel better now?" He asked tentatively.

She smiled at him, lovely as ever. "I do. Thanks. It's beautiful," she gestured toward the nebula.

He grinned back, undecidedly patting her shoulder, then placed his hands in his lap, twiddling his thumbs, longing for the sensation of her hand in his. They sat there for quite some time, watching new suns being born, she wondered what her real family was like; while he was filled with guilt, and balking at his lack of courage to hold her hand.

Their conflicted silence was broken by the TARDIS nearly throwing them out, a great rumbling shaking the floor, the pair leaped up, and holding on to the doorframe as they watched an enormous ship pass below them at an uncontrollable speed. It was at least forty decks, long and rectangular, quite like a cruise ship from Earth. They gawked in fear as it made its path straight toward the star nursery.

"No, no," The Doctor shut the doors, jogging to the console and typing in coordinates. "I fear that if that starliner reaches the nursery, it will destroy it. So many stars will not be formed; planets will not be able to support life without them. It can change the universe forever."

"So we're going to land on a crashing ship?" Emmy asked, arching an eyebrow.

The Doctor grinned, "Yes, are you ready?"

Emmy took a hold of the console, smiling, "Of course."

"Well then," the Doctor tossed a gear into place, "Geronimo!"


	8. Chapter 8: Countdown

Chapter 8

They exited the TARDIS to see a terrifying sight. The entire ship rumbled treacherously beneath their feet, red lights flashed in the corridor, reflecting off of the polished steel surfaces, nearly blinding them. A screeching alarm echoed throughout, an icy automated voice announcing "Emergency Protocol Omega. All crew report to positions, all passengers remain calm and return to their cabins, and wait further instructions."

The Doctor immediately fetched his sonic screwdriver, briskly striding down the corridor, "Ah, a Starliner from the thirtieth century. Like a cruise ship, but in space!" He pointed toward the sign at the end of the hall way, "Deck 46, that's near the bottom. We have to get to the flight deck."

"Hey, what are you doing down here?" a voice shouted from behind them, and they turned to see a young man in a midnight blue uniform approach them.

The Doctor smiled, reaching for his psychic paper and holding it aloft for the sailor to see. "We're passengers. And we'd like to see the Captain."

The soldier just stared at the paper, pale blue eyes unconvinced. "There's nothing on the page, sir. Let me scan your passenger identification bracelets."

"What do you mean there's nothing?" The Doctor examined the paper, tapping it.

The Doctor and Emmy exchanged a quick worried look, "We lost them!" Emmy exclaimed, laughing, "Last night at the bar, it was a pretty," she leaned into the Doctor, and he gave her a wild look, "crazy night. He kept buying me drinks, and I just couldn't say no. And we woke up this morning without our bracelets. We were going to get new ones, but the alarm is telling us to go back to our rooms."

The alarm became louder, the message changing to something more urgent sounding. "All crew and passengers to evacuation pods. Emergency Protocol Alpha."

The sailor responded immediately, a determined look on his face. "Follow me please." Taking off down the corridor, waving his silver bracelet in front of a scanner, and the doors slid open.

Emmy and the Doctor went after him, the Doctor leaning in to whisper "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That thing, the story." He looked confused, lines on his forehead.

"Well, what was I supposed to do if the psychic paper doesn't work? Why do we always have to lie? Why can't we just tell them who we are? Time travellers!" Emmy countered, trying to keep her voice down so the sailor couldn't hear.

"Time travellers?" the sailor asked, turning on his heel to face them

The Doctor gave Emmy a frustrated look, "Yes, I'm the Doctor. This is Emmy. We know your ship is crashing and we're here to help."

The sailor released his gun from his holster, pointing at them. "Freeze! Put your hands above your head."

"Oh, so we're compensating with a gun now?" The Doctor held his hands aloft, rolling his eyes at the sailor.

Emmy groaned, "Really, this again? You're going to waste time arresting us while your ship is crashing?" The ship shook violently, enough to cause them to falter.

"No." The sailor simply stated, aiming his gun at the Doctor and firing. He turned on his heel, and continued on, opening a panel in the wall at the end of the corridor and entering a code. Invisible doors opened quickly and the sailor disappeared.

Emmy fell to her knees, beside the Doctor. He rested on his back, eyes closed, not one sign of movement coming from him. She took his pulse, nothing. She placed her fingers in front of his nose, no air. She let out a cry of disbelief, kneeling to him, preparing herself for CPR, placing her left fist under her right hand, arms straight; but she thought of his two hearts. She didn't know of a way to stimulate them both, she didn't even know where they were placed in his chest. She took his pulse again, listened to his chest for breath sounds, yet nothing came. He was dead. Emmy was beside herself, and slowly began to sob, pressing her cheek to his chest.

The Doctor popped one eye open, peeking around, aware of a weight on top of him, the coast clear he began to sit up. "Damn, I am good, I should have done Hamlet when Will offered it! And you were fantastic too, with all the blubbering and sobbing..." But the Doctor finally saw Emmy's face, red and wet, as she stared wide eyed in disbelief. "Emmy, what's the matter?"

She crossed her arms, "You were faking?"

He reached up to wipe the tears away from her face, "Of course I was faking, I told you that Rodium rays like in those guns don't have any effect on binary cardiac systems."

Her eyes narrowed, angry, "No you didn't! I honestly thought you died!" She smacked him on the chest.

"Ow!" he jumped, sitting up.

"You son of a-" she accented every word with a blow. "You deserve that!" She stood up, wiping her face.

He followed, "I could have sworn I told you, Emmy. Look, I'm very sorry."

He pulled her into his arms, and kissed her hair.

"You better be! The next time you decide to play dead, you better tell me first!"

The Doctor grinned, "I promise." He pulled her up to her feet, and the ship groaned, throwing them to the ground again. Emmy collided with the wall, her head swimming.

"We need to get to the flight deck," Emmy said, pressing a hand to her head, feeling a hot liquid pool into her hand.

The Doctor shook his head, "You're injured."

Emmy ran down the corridor, "I'm fine! Flight deck, right?" she pressed the combination she saw the sailor enter into a hidden keypad at the end of the corridor.

They made their way, climbing up flights of stairs and cracking codes, the ship nearly abandoned, as the passengers made their way to the evacuation pods. Finally they opened the door to the flight deck, the captain calling out orders, nine crew members left.

The captain, the tallest man in the room, with blonde hair parted to the side, strong blue eyes, with a commanding voice. "Jackson 12, what are the mechanics reading out?"

A sailor turned, and Emmy gasped, it looked exactly like the captain. "The evacuation pods are disabled though fully operational, sir." He reported, turning back to his station.

Emmy looked around the steel gray room, all nine crew members were exactly the same.

"Androids." The Doctor whispered in Emmy's ear. She nodded quickly, holding pressure to her head.

The Doctor cleared his throat, and all of the crew turned to look. Guns were drawn, and hands held above heads.

"I'm the Doctor, and this is Emmy. We're here to help." The Doctor announced.

One of the androids fingers curled around Emmy's shoulder, "The female is injured, sir." He informed the captain.

The captain nodded, "Let them go. Tend to the female. Doctor, we have everything under control. We are following protocol."

The Doctor swept his screwdriver around the room, and read the results, "Obviously not. Your ship is crashing, your evacuation pods aren't working, and your entire ship is at risk. Seems things are not under control, in my opinion."

The android gripped Emmy's arm, leading her to a chair, and pulled out a steel box, gathering supplies.

"What is your name?" Emmy asked, her head throbbing.

"Jackson 3. And yours is Emmy." He smiled, closing the box.

Emmy's skin crawled, but she gave an unsure smile back, then winced. "So you're all named Jackson?"

"Yes, Emmy. This might hurt a bit," Jackson pushed back her hair, pulling her hand down gently, pressing gauze to the wound. Emmy bit her lip, a new wave of pain washing over her.

"Why are you all named Jackson?" She questioned through gritted teeth as he sewed the gash closed.

"Because we are of the same model, same generation. This entire ship is run by an android crew."

"An entire ship run by robots. Brilliant." Emmy's stomach churned, the room spinning.

"Feeling nauseous?" Jackson asked, finished suturing.

"How do you know?" she asked, holding her head.

"I'm scanning your body." He responded, holding up a small blue disk the size of a penny, "Put this under your tongue."

"You know, I never would have known you were a robot." Emmy did as she was told, the throbbing pain in her skull melting away.

"That's the point. We assimilate perfectly to the human race." Jackson held her hand, then straightened out her arm. "I'm going to give you a shot of antibiotics, to eradicate any foreign bodies in the wound."

"Okay." Emmy didn't care, but she shot right up when he inserted the needle.

"Jesus! How big of a needle do you need to use?" she cried out, and Jackson apologized.

The Doctor looked up from the ship's flight computer after hearing Emmy shout. "Are you okay?" he asked, his words lost in the alarms as he saw Jackson hold Emmy's hand and smooth her hair. He felt his chest wrench, jaw tightening, was he really jealous of an android? Of a machine incapable of feelings? He dismissed the thought, returning to the task at hand.

"Now, Captain, Please run me through what happened." He leaned forward on the flight computer, hands splayed wide.

"Flight was going normally, when the engine temperatures began to rise, but coolant levels normal. Sent Jackson 12, our engineer to inspect, and found that our engines are unresponsive. So we began to be pulled by the nearest sun's gravity."

"How fast are you going now?" Emmy asked, rubbing her arm, joining the Doctor's side.

"Are you okay?" he mouthed, and she nodded in response, turning back to the computer.

"We are flying at a normal cruising speed of ten thousand miles per kilometre." The Captain confirmed, "Starliner Discovery will make impact to the nearest sun in twenty seven minutes."

"Twenty seven minutes! That's plenty of time! You can do lots of things in twenty seven minutes." The Doctor turned around, rubbing his face, calculating, with hundreds of numbers dashing through his head, the mechanics of the ship, breaking it down part by part.

"How many passengers are on the ship?" implored Emmy, turning to Jackson 3.

"On this voyage there are six thousand nine hundred and eighty two passengers, with a crew of one thousand." Another Jackson informed.

"And the evacuation pods are not working..." Emmy muttered to herself, her chest tightening with anxiety. "All of those people."

The ship lurched, hurdling irrepressibly towards the explosive spheres of gas, to their end.

The Doctor snapped his fingers, marching back and forth, "Okay. Okay. These ships fly themselves, don't they? Artificial intelligence, automatic flight path, all that jazz. Emmy, come with me." He strode out of the room, Emmy falling beside him.

They heard a shout, then hurried footsteps behind them, turning they saw Jackson 3 chasing after them, "Doctor, where are you going?"

The Doctor dismissed the android, rotating on his heel, "The engine room!" he called back, checking his watch.

They descended rapidly, down through the labyrinth of decks and corridors, changing staircases, and unbolting thick steel doors. Eventually they reached what they were looking for, a cavernous inky black room with a ceiling so high it was shrouded from their view by smog, the heat from the slowly cooling engines stifling. The Doctor sprinted from one colossal piston to the other, reading gauges, muttering to himself. Emmy followed him, not sure what he was looking for, but was all too aware of the time ticking away.

"Twenty minutes, Doctor." She announced, and he nodded, the green light of the screwdriver illuminating his face.

"I know, Grey." He was worried, she could tell, despite that confident show for the crew, his brow was furrowed, hands fidgeting. But he was giving his all, something he had shown her in the few months they'd been traversing through the universe together.

"Doctor, what are you searching for?" she asked, torch held aloft to light the way.

"The coolant tank. If there's rising temperatures, then check the coolant. Your lot reported that there was nothing amiss when you inspected the engine before, but what about now?"

The Doctor sighed, loosened his bowtie, just about to give up, when he laid his eyes upon what he was searching for. Scrambling over to the coolant tank, a frantic alarm ringing out, a calm soulless voice announcing "You do not have authorisation to remove the mainframe from the coolant. Please enter the authorisation code," the mainframe sat beside the tank, a series of pipes and wires encased in a black steel box, that Emmy wouldn't have been able to recognise, his eyes sweeping over the gauges, the temperature rising steadily.

"We need to get the mainframe back into the coolant, then the navigation can come back online, then we can roll on out of here." The Doctor tossed his tweed aside, rolling up his cuffs.

"And if we don't?" Emmy asked, hands on her hips, surveying the sight. The ship lurched, knocking them to their knees.

"The engines will overheat, pressure will build, and they'll catch fire, which will set the nuclear fuel alight, causing an explosion whose debris could reach Earth." He declared, completely composed, "Got that?"

Emmy tried to fight the anxious feeling that was churning her stomach; she nodded, "Yeah. Got it."

A fearsome sound reverberated through the ship, echoing in Emmy's bones, as the metal hull of the ship contracted under the rising heat. Emmy dropped to her knees next to the Doctor, examining the wires of the mainframe, which were stripped of their plastic coating and frayed. He began to reconnect the wires, sonicing them back into place. It was going to be long work, something he didn't have time for. Emmy followed his directions, matching up wires the best she could.

The Doctor grumbled, working rapidly, but it still wasn't fast enough. He automatically checked his watch, thirteen minutes. He could do it, it would take every minute, but he could do it.

Emmy sat back on her heels, unbuttoning her shirt and tossing it aside, straightening the straps of her tank top. "Doctor, on a large ship like this, wouldn't there be a back up engine, or something?"

The Doctor leaned over the box, sonicing as he went along, "Yes, but it's usually on the other side of the ship shoved in a storage room, a secondary engine room that is never used."

Emmy wiped the sweat from her forehead, and started back on reconnecting wires, not entirely sure if she was connecting the right ones. "This one, right?" she checked, he nodded, "And what do you think the success rate of this working out is?"

The Doctor grimaced, "Not sure, but we have to try."

"Why try on something that might work when there could be something that would definitely work?" She replied, the air so hot it was getting hard to breathe. It felt like those gloved hands were clasped around her throat again. She pushed the thought out of her mind, focusing on the task at hand.

The Doctor's jaw tightened, "Because we don't have to time to do anything else. So either help, or get out of my way!" he snapped, shoving her hands out of the way.

Emmy huffed, standing up, taking a torch with her, and set off to find the generator. She checked her watch, nine minutes until the estimated impact. She sprinted between the pipes, searching for that familiar generator. With the rising solar activity back on Earth, everyone's flat came equipped with a generator because of frequent blackouts when a solar storm wreaked havoc. When she finally came upon it, shoved in a corner, but it was practically destroyed, but Emmy didn't falter at that, she had fixed her own several times before. She began to reconnect pipes, gasping at the blazing hot parts seared her hands , gripping the torch with her teeth, as she looked at her watch for what seemed like the millionth time, she had roughly seven minutes, and her stomach dropped. She worked furiously with shaking hands, up until those precious final minutes, the heat becoming unbearable, her throat so dry, she was so thirsty. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder, the Doctor kneeling beside her.

"The mainframe is no use."

"I could've told you that." She managed to retort around the torch between her teeth.

He worked beside her, staying out of her way, sonicing every screw into place. They finished, rising to their feet, coughing, and flipped the switch.

When there was no response, their hearts dropped. The Doctor pointed his screwdriver at it, but the device showed no signs of life. He tried again, becoming increasingly more frustrated.

"Doctor, we're out of time." Emmy sat back, wiping the sweat off of her face.

He just looked at her, in disbelief, sonicing the generator once more, "Just one more time."

Emmy just looked at her watch, unable to respond, as the seconds ticked down. There was no use, they were going to burn. The Doctor attempted again, but the generator remained silent. He stood, hands on his hips. Emmy watched as his face dropped.

"It's not working." Emmy stated hollowly, staring at the obsolete generator.

The Doctor sighed, "I know."

The metal surrounding them screeched in response to the blistering temperatures, their bodies drenched in sweat, Emmy fearsomely checked her watch once more.

"We need to go. If we can make it to the-" The Doctor announced, grabbing her wrist, dragging her to the door. Emmy stood her ground, tearing her wrist out of his grasp.

"Why?" Emmy questioned hollowly, all out of hope. "We're…we're going to die anyways." She managed to get out, voice cracking.

He examined his balled hands, "I know," looked up, tears streaming down his face, "Emmy," he stepped to enfold her in his arms. For the first time, the Doctor was terrified.

The heat swelled, and Emmy could barely breathe, they were both gasping, the sound of metal collapsing, so deafening she couldn't hear the Doctor's words. Her vision began to tunnel, going fuzzy, then eventually black. All she could concentrate was the feeling of the Doctor's hearts under her palm on his chest. She didn't know how it would feel, to die; she didn't know what she expected. She thought her life would flash in front of her eyes, but no, all she could think of were the stars, how magnificently beautiful, how they made her feel miniscule. And of the Doctor, how he made her feel so important, so influential. She concentrated on the pounding under her fingers, mapping the rhythms in her mind, placing the beats on a staff, following the melody. She chose not to feel sad, she didn't want her last moments to be sad; nor happy, just thankful, that he had shared the stars with her.

But the end never came; the engines hummed to life, the ship shuddered as it regained control. The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief, his vision still tunneling, ears still impaired, but he could feel the vibration of the engines through his feet.

The Doctor smiled.


	9. Chapter 9: All the Way Down

Chapter 9

She ran, faster than she ever thought she was able to. She concentrated solely on moving one foot in front of the other. She weaved in between trees, bounding over roots that threatened to topple her, branches whipping her, thorns tugging and tearing at her. Her lungs burned, she had a stitch in her side, and she had no idea where she was going, it was dark, darker than she could ever imagine. Someone was after her, right behind her. She could feel their hands almost grasping her, missing by millimetres. Her muscles burned, she wasn't sure how much longer she was going to last. She knew who was chasing her, the same hooded figure that chased her throughout her dreams, transforming them into nightmares that left her silently screaming in terror. She pushed harder, begging her body not to give up. She whizzed past another tree, when she was ripped back, smashing into the ground, dirt flying up her nose and into her mouth. A gloved hand wrapped around her throat, and she barely managed to scream before it clamped down.

* * *

><p>The Doctor gently arranged Emmy across a chair in the TARDIS. The android crew of the Starliner had rushed him off the ship, shirked of all responsibilities for being unable to take care of their own ship's repair. He retrieved his army green coat from the coat rack and spread it across her unconscious body. He kneeled before her, pushing her hair back from her sweaty forehead, her skin covered in goose flesh, listening to her laboured shallow breathing. He urged her to wake up, his hearts skipping a beat when she didn't respond.<p>

He was aware of his head killing him, throat as dry as the blazing deserts on Khana, causing him to cough uncontrollably, shirt sticking to him, hair pressed to his forehead. He took Emmy's hand in his, not caring that they were both covered in engine grease. He coughed, his throat scorched as he ran the screwdriver over her body, she was out cold, oxygen at a worrisome low level, temperature running high.

He wiped a smudge of grease on her forehead away with his thumb, and she wriggled under the touch, eyes fluttering open. The room spun around her as she slowly sat up.

"Emmaline?" The Doctor couldn't hide the worry from his voice, "Thought I lost you."

"The ship?" she asked, slowly sitting up, looking around, she recognized the soft glow of the TARDIS.

"Safe." Emmy watched as blood trickled down his forehead. "Everyone survived. The ship was a little worse for wear, the sun nearly burned through the hull."

"They just flew off without saying anything?" she asked, trying to wipe the grease on her hands on her trousers.

"I thought it was strange too."

"Doctor, you're bleeding." She tore a strip of cloth from her shirt, folded it, brushing his hair back, and pressed it to his forehead. He gasped, and she inspected the wound. A deep gash ran along his hairline, it bled profusely. "You're going to need stitches."

"Stitches?" he asked, and she put his hand to the cloth. "No, Emmy, I'm fine, honestly."

"Hold the pressure. Yes, stitches. Head wounds bleed more than anywhere else. And you might have a concussion. I'll go grab a med kit."

She got to her feet, head swimming, the room spun around her. She climbed up the stairs, dashing as quickly as she could to the medical bay. Her throat burned, her entire body ached, she was dehydrated and bruised.

She entered the med bay, its pristine white shining surfaces nearly blinding her. She clutched a small silver box by its handle, surprised by its weight, and continued back to the room. The Doctor sat on the bottom steps of the staircase, still clutching the cloth to his head. Emmy kneeled in front of him, opening the case and setting out all the supplies she would need. She took a piece of gauze, soaking it in antiseptic. She pushed his hand that held the cloth away, the bleeding had stopped for a moment, and she began to clean the gash. The Doctor grimaced, hands gripping around the edge of the stair, hoping she wouldn't see. His head throbbed, ears ringing; he could barely hear Emmy speak. He watched as she thread a needle, and held it up.

Emmy inspected the suturing needle, and took a deep breath. "I've done this plenty of times on bananas, but not on a person. There's no crazy Time Lord anatomy I need to know about?"

"Just watch out for my amazing Time Lord brain." He reassured her, giving her a small smile.

"We'll see about that. Take a deep breath, I couldn't find any anaesthetic, so this is going to hurt." She began to suture, thankful for all of those long days she spent in the labs practicing.

The Doctor watched as Emmy worked, brow furrowed, hands slowly stitching him back together, bottom lip caught between her teeth in concentration. Every time he would flinch as the needle re-entered, she'd press a calm hand to his cheek, eyes always flickering to his, always checking on him. She tied the final knot, clipping the excess, and sat back on her heels.

"Not bad for the first time on a live subject." She smiled, proud of herself.

She took a pen light from the kit, and passed it in front of his eyes, "No sign of concussion. How do you feel?"

He reached up and ran his finger lightly across the stitches, "Fine. And you?" He stood, going to the console, throwing the parking lever into gear. Emmy put the lever back into place.

"What are you doing?" he asked, plunking it into gear again.

Emmy pinched herself, she watched as her skin slowly turned from white to normal. She pinched him, and he shouted, "What was that for!"

"We're both severely dehydrated, we can't travel now. That sun nearly dried us out. We need to eat, and rest."

He arched an eyebrow, "I feel fine, really." He held his hands out, leaning against the console.

Emmy placed her hands on her hips, "Doctor's orders."

He just looked at her; both of them covered in engine grease, absolutely filthy, clothes caked with sweat and dirt. She saved them. He had refused to listen to her, solely relying on himself, on his own intellect. And she saved him; she chose not to listen to him, to try something on her own.

She let out a sigh, and then frowned, "We nearly died."

He shook his head, "But we didn't."

"But we could've. We could've died. We _should've _died." Emmy supposed, feeling a shiver up her spine, brow furrowed, breathing ragged. She felt her hearts fluttering, panic rising up, realizing how close they were to the end.

The Doctor pulled her into his arms, in a soothing voice, "Emmy, you were brilliant, you saved that entire ship full of people, we survived because of you."

She looked at him, "Together. We did it together."

"We make a good team."

She shook her head, "Only if you'd listen to me more often," she jested, head on his shoulder.

He leaned back, "And if I don't?"

"We'd fly into more suns. Now let's eat."

* * *

><p>"Here," the Doctor pulled two straws from his jacket pocket, handing one to Emmy.<p>

Emmy inspected the straw, a suspicious eyebrow raised, "And this is?"

"They're my special straws, they add more fizz." He popped it into his soda bottle, and Emmy followed suit.

They slid into a booth, listening to the pseudo-fifties music. They had landed at a diner on a random, barely colonised planet on the Inter-Galactic Throughway. The waitress, in her blindingly pink apron didn't take too kindly that the TARDIS was occupying the back corner, and had crushed a table upon landing. They had apologized profusely, crossing the black and white tiles, the Doctor nearly crashing into the jukebox.

The Doctor leaned back in his seat, "Emmy, you were in school, back on Earth, weren't you?"

Emmy nodded, twirling her straw in her drink, "I was, I was in medical school." She felt a minute twinge of homesickness, her chest tightened, and thinking of all the things she left behind.

"So you were going to be a doctor and you gave up all of that to come with me."

She shook her head, "Not my dream. That was my mum's. I wanted to be an astronomer."

"Ah, and what stopped you?" he absentmindedly ran a finger over his stitches.

She played with the hem of her shirt, worrying her bottom lip, "My uh, my dad and I, I remember on my eighth birthday he brought home a telescope, and that night there was a meteor shower. And I remember seeing a green star after it was over. He left a couple years later, and every night I would wish on that green star for him to come back. I didn't find out until recently that that green star was a planet." Emmy sighed, all the old closed wounds reopening,

The Doctor chuckled, "Doesn't do any good to wish on planets, Emmy."

She let out a small, sad laugh, "Obviously not. Anyways, I spent all my school years planning to become an astronomer, but when I told my mum, she made sure that we got rid of everything that reminded us of my dad, including my dream. She insisted I do something more practical. So I did. And when you came that night," She gave him a wry smile, taking another sip of her soda. "And took me to the Moon, that changed everything for me. The year after that all I could think of were the stars, it drove me insane."

The waitress set their plates down on the table, and promptly walked away, and Emmy immediately popped a chip into her mouth, despite the fact it burned her tongue. She couldn't remember the last time she ate something, they were either exploring, more likely running. Not that she minded, but after cutting it so close on the starliner, but she needed to take care of herself.

"Doctor, have you always been travelling?" she asked calmly, wondering what the answer would be.

He shifted in his seat, "Yes, for quite some time."

"And always alone, or were there others before me?" she tentatively went on, hoping not to press too far.

He nodded, "There have been others. But not for a very long time."

"Oh. Can I ask how long?"

"Roughly 400 years." The Doctor answered nonchalantly.

Emmy's eyes went wide, "400 years, that's a long time!"

He chuckled, "Soon Emmy, 400 years will be nothing."

They continued with their meal, until Emmy's phone rang. She smiled at the name on the phone, answering it.

"Hello!"

"Emmy, have you gotten any of the emails I've sent you? The wedding is next weekend! I'm properly freaking out right now." Dani nearly shouted, causing Emmy to hold the mobile away from her ear.

"Wedding?" Emmy asked, dropping her fork.

Dani made a terrifying noise that sounded like a growl, "Yes, of course, my wedding! While you've been off traversing the world with mystery man, I've been planning all of this, without you. I've already got your dress and shoes; all you have to do is show up. I thought you got my texts."

The Doctor just silently observed, trying to imagine the conversation on the other side of the phone.

"Yeah, of course I got them." She lied, brushing her hair out of her face, "I've just been a little busy."

"A little busy? Emmy, you've been gone for _two_ years. I rarely hear from you anymore, I thought this trip was only for a bit. You can't just pop off and leave without notice, you know?" Dani sighed frustratingly, "Your mum's been so worried, you haven't called, not even a bloody postcard. What happened to you?"

Emmy just shook her head in disbelief, two years. How could have it been two years? She had only been travelling with the Doctor for several months, not years. She barely knew how to respond, "Dani, I'm sorry. I really am. I'll be there, I promise. I'll be at your wedding." Emmy hung up, setting her phone down, and placed her head in her hands.

"A wedding, yeah?" The Doctor tapped his fingers on the table, trying to be cheerful, "Love weddings, me, I only go for the dancing."

"Two years." Emmy breathed with a sense of guilt, "It's been two years since I've been home."

"Oh." The Doctor had the tingling sense that someone was watching them, eavesdropping. He looked around the restaurant, which was completely barren beside the waitress, and the cook in the back. He watched as the waitress spoke into a communicator device, lighting a cigarette.

Emmy pushed her hair out of her eyes, "And my best friend, she's getting _married._ I've missed two years, back on Earth. Somewhere, back at home, I was supposed to graduate. I guess I expected life to just be waiting for me back on Earth."

She took a deep breath, trying to clear her head. She felt now as a Time Lord, that she had no boundaries, especially not when she was with the Doctor. Anywhere in time and space, he said. But she didn't realise the effect of her actions, and looking back, it was incredibly selfish. She couldn't just run away, but then again, she could. And then she realised something truly awful.

"I'm going to outlive all of my friends." She grimly stated, appetite diminished.

The Doctor placed his hand on hers, rubbing circles with his thumb, "Emmy-"

"So one day, when we go back to visit Earth, one day my friends will all be dead. And my mum. And even my dad, and my friend's kids, and their kids." She shook her head, "That's awful." Emmy could see the waitress eyeing her from the counter, but she didn't care.

The Doctor leaned forward across the table, "Emmy, I know, I know exactly how it feels." He watched from the corner of his eye as the waitress slowly walked towards them from the end of the counter, "But I need you to be brave right now, and run."

Emmy could see how serious he was, and nodded. She sprinted, he not far behind her, as gunshots rang out. The waitress stood at the end of the counter, gun drawn, pointed for their heads.

They entered the TARDIS just in time, the Doctor taking off without warning. Emmy held on as the Doctor did his dance around the console.

"What the hell was that?" Emmy asked when the ship came to a halt.

The Doctor shrugged, "Not sure. I get shot at a lot. Gotten used to it by now. Does it bother you?"

"You know, I feel like it should, but we've had weapons pointed at us so many times, I'm starting to get used to it." She laughed at herself, leaning against the console.

He chuckled, gently tapping her nose, "That's the spirit! We have a wedding to go to."

"Can I fly it?" Emmy softly asked, running a hand through her hair, eyeing the controls of the TARDIS, adventure in her eyes.

The Doctor tinkered with the screen, "Fly what?" he asked, even though he was perfectly aware of what she was asking.

"The TARDIS." She ran her hand over a lever, voice sparkling in excitement, "You must get tired of driving all the time, right?"

"Not really! Besides, you are hardly qualified to be a-"The Doctor watched as disappointment crossed her face as she realised he was saying no. "But I can teach you." He wondered why he was even bothering. He just knew that it bothered him to see her downtrodden.

"Really?" she smiled, "You'd let me? I thought blokes were pretty possessive over their toys?"

"Well, yeah." he stared down at the console. He took her by the arm, placing her where he was just standing, "Now, you've got to stand in the proper place, or everything will go wibbly. And we don't want that."

"This is the brake, you type where you want to go or whatever comes to mind into the typewriter," He placed her hand on a lever, the other on a crank. He typed in a random sequence of symbols into the typewriter, and pressed her hand down on the lever.

"Like coordinates?" she asked, examining all the strange symbols on the keys.

"Sure, coordinates. Or whatever. She always takes us where we need to be." He smiled up at the glass column that held the soul of the TARDIS.

"Okay, now what?" Emmy asked, baffled by all the tools before her.

"Start the boosters." He motioned to a lever, nodding. Emmy took a deep breath and pulled it.

The TARDIS rocketed off, and the pair held on, Emmy with a proud smile on her face, the Doctor whizzing about as usual. They landed with a thump, climbed to their feet, and headed to the door. Emmy hesitated with her hand on the latch of the door. It would be the first time she had seen her friends since she left with the Doctor. What had been two years for them, were only a couple months for her. She was different, an alien. She wondered if they would be able to tell, she hoped not. She shook off the feeling and opened the door, only to be greeted by palm trees, ocean breeze, and mud under their shoes.

The Doctor checked his watch, "This isn't London."

Emmy just arched an eyebrow at him, "Thank you, Sherlock Holmes. I could gather that on my own." She shielded her eyes against the sun, looking out at the deep jungle they landed in.

"The sarcasm is not appreciated, Gray!" He was already hopping over a bush, sonicing some sort of insect that had landed on his jacket.

"Where are you going? I need to go back to London!" she called to him; he had completely disappeared into the brush.

His head popped up, smiling, "Time can be rewritten. Don't worry, Gray. I'll get you to your friend's wedding."

She shook her head, that ridiculous man, and followed him. She caught up to him quickly, he stopped, distracted by an enormous flower, whose petals were almost as long as they were. A shocking shade of red, the Doctor stepped forward and licked it.

"Oh you just did not- that could be poisonous!"

"Almondrala! We're on Almondrala, thought that flower looked familiar. I was here once, long ago. Only popped in to save it from an invasion of a neighbouring species. See? The planet has six moons, each with a different race, but descended from the original Almondrans. Lovely planet." He pointed up through the leafy green foliage, to see four of the six moons, so close, so large, nearly taking up the sky.

"It's beautiful." Emmy replied, a butterfly landing on her hand, instantly changing to the exact shade of her skin, a chameleon butterfly.

"Even more beautiful from the top of the volcano!" He checked his watch, "And if we get there at the perfect time, we can see the moons set."

"Volcano?" Emmy unsurely questioned.

He turned, "Oh, don't look so worried, they've been dormant since the beginning of time! Come along!"

They climbed, eventually reaching the top to find a lagoon that extended farther than they could see, surrounded by palm trees and large boulders. Beyond the mountain, the ocean stretched, and in the distance they could see islands. The other orbiting moons filled the pale blue-grey sky. Each one had their own colour, varying from a deep purple to a pale almost white pink. They stood, craning their necks up the sky, as it changed from grey to a warm yellow, when there was a splash behind them.

They turned to see a tall, beautiful creature slowly coming out of the water, walking on what appeared to be feet, translucent skin reflecting the sky, breathing softly through gills on her ribs, with webbing between her arms that stretched down the floor of the lagoon, eyes like sea glass, a meld of green and blue, translucent curls falling down her back, that reflected the environment around her.

Emmy's eyes widened in wonder, "Hello." She greeted, not really sure what to say.

"You are trespassers of the Almondrans. Why are you here?" Her voice was high, like a soprano from the London opera.

"Just a bit of a wrong stop," the Doctor stepped forward, hands raised cautiously. "Sorry."

The water bubbled, and several more Almondrans rose from the waves, floating beside each other.

"We have not had visitors since the Great War, in which we isolated ourselves. Not even the men can reach us." The first Almondran continued, looking down upon Emmy and the Doctor. "Identify yourselves."

"Men?" Emmy asked softly to the Doctor.

"They live in the ocean below, and must swim up the river on the side of the volcano to mate." The Doctor hurriedly explained.

"Like salmon?" Emmy reasoned, observing the towering mermaid-like females.

"In a crude way of putting it, yes." the Doctor straightened his bowtie, "I'm the Doctor, and this is Emmy. May I ask what your name is?"

The Almondran came forward on her webbed feet, "I'm Almena, general of the Almondrans. You are the Doctor? The warrior from the blue box who aided us in the Great War?" the others behind her began to chat excitedly amongst themselves.

"A warrior, please, he's no warrior. Last week I watched him speak to a litter of kittens, claiming he speaks cat." Emmy sniggered at the memory.

"Silence, human. My ancestors have sung of the great warrior Doctor for many moons now." Almena shot a glare at Emmy. "The great healer, the man of many faces, the healer of races. The Doctor."

"Human? I'm a-"

"Emmy!" He stared at her, and she immediately closed her mouth. He looked around, "Nice to see everyone at peace again. Last time I was here, you lot were in a right mess."

"Please, Doctor, join us." The general motioned to the water, a deep blue pool that was so deep it looked black in the sun.

The Doctor looked back at Emmy, who just shrugged, and they knelt to take off their shoes and rolled up their pants. They stepped into the water; it was cool, the sand felt soft between their toes. They waded over to a nearby rock, setting themselves upon it. Suddenly the surface of the lagoon rippled as more Almondrans surfaced, all women and children, all translucent, reflecting the water, and the foliage surrounding them. They begged to hear the story of the Great War directly from their warrior, the one they worshipped centuries later. As the Doctor launched into the story, a charming young girl climbed next to her, Emmy introduces herself, the young girl responds as Clariah, who begins to weave seaweed into her hair and place seashells among the plaits. Emmy tries to pay attention to the Doctor's narrative, but she couldn't help but feel something was off. The ground gave a small tremor, causing a miniscule wake in the lagoon, unnoticeable to the naked eye, but to Emmy, whose senses were firing on all pistons, was all she could concentrate on. The sky slowly turned dark charcoal grey, thick rolling clouds obscuring the view of the orbiting moons. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, as she watched the Doctor vibrantly raising his hands; face screwed into an energetic expression, to the Almondrans, eyes wide in awe, some covering their mouths with their webbed hands in worry, the children clinging to their mothers as those old enough to understand follow along. Lightening cracks far off and Emmy can smell the sharp acrid scent of ash waft on the wind. Stomach churning, something is very very wrong, but she can't place her finger on it. Her train of thought is interrupted by some mischievous children tugging at her ankles, causing her to fall in the water.

That's when it happens.

A volcano on a nearby island erupts, ash spreading everywhere, losing their orientation, and the sound of the rumbling of the planet, Emmy can barely hear the Doctor bellow her name over the commotion. She climbs back onto the rock, where the Doctor stands, offering her a hand. The water in the lagoon begins to bubble, the Almondrans screaming in terror. But the look on the Doctor's face, he looks grave, mouth tight in a line, almost sick.

"Emmy, we need to leave. Now." He grabbed her hand, pulling her across the sand, back towards the TARDIS.

She looked back, at the helpless Almondrans, who held tightly to their young, shouting orders to each other. She looked bewildered, "But they need help! We need to help them, Doctor!"

The Doctor's throat tightened, he knew what happened here, he should've asked for the date. He had read about it in books, seen the results himself, "We need to leave. No questions."

Emmy stopped in her tracks, yanking her hand out of his grasp. Halfway in the jungle, she could still hear their cries, "Why are you doing this? They need help, and you want to leave? They speak of this great Doctor, this warrior of the universe, this _healer_ of races, and you mean to tell me that you're leaving?"

"Emmy!" he threw his hands in the air, jaw tight, "There is no time for you to patronise me!" he growled, grasping her wrist and dragging her down the path.

"Stop! Let go of me!" she wriggled out of his grip again, crossing her arms, "Why won't you help them?"

He huffed in frustration, "Because we cannot interfere. This event is too big, it changes history. Today an entire galaxy is reformed."

"Can you help them?" she calmly asked, so soft he had to strain to hear her over the ground churning beneath their feet.

He shook his head, "Not today." He replied, trying to ignore the shrieks coming from the lagoon.

"You told me time can be rewritten." Eyebrows raised, eyes wide in hope. "There's an entire race to be saved, and you're going to just walk away?"

"Not this time, Emmy. Trust me, not this time." He slowly shook his head, teeth grit against his own fury.

Emmy couldn't believe what she was hearing, "Then I'm staying here."

The Doctor stepped forward, but she took another step back, giving him one final look of defiance and sprinted back to the lagoon. The Doctor shook his head, heading back to the TARDIS.

Emmy arrived back at the lagoon, joining the Almondrans back in the lagoon, which bubbled worrisomely. She ordered Almena to evacuate everyone onto land, hoping to maybe somehow get to the ocean, before the volcano that boiled below the lagoon erupted. She could hear in the distance, the sound of the TARDIS slowly fading away, then all at once, too loud for her to handle. She closed her eyes against the strident noise, then opened to find herself standing in the soft golden glow of the TARDIS. She turned to see the Doctor at the console, piloting the ship. He pointed the sonic screwdriver at the door without looking, and she could hear the door lock.

"What have you done?" she hollered, rushing up the steps to the console.

"I couldn't let you die, Emmaline." He replied hollowly, surprised by her rage, yet calmly tossing another crank into place.

"But you're going to let an entire race of Almondrans die?" she countered, tears overflowing, she wiped them away with the back of her hand.

"It was a fixed point in time." He cast her a quick glance, then returned to flying the ship. He watched as his hands trembled in anger.

"Take me back." She murmured, voice thick with tears, she stood beside him, "Take me back, Doctor."

"I can't." He shook his head, teeth grinding.

"Take me back!" she shouted, surprised at the power in her voice. She tried to push him aside, to pull a lever, hoping to fly the TARDIS back.

He stoically pulled her hand off, and she slapped him, he looked at her completely shocked. Then she shoved him, pounding her fists into his chest, repeatedly pleading, "Take me back, take me back."

"Emmy, I can't." He grabbed her wrists, pulling them up.

"Yes, you can! Please!" The look in her eyes so broken, wanting nothing more but to help, it nearly killed him. "Please?" She requested once more in a hushed whisper.

"I _won't_." He felt nothing. No, he wanted to feel nothing, but was feeling quite the opposite.

He dropped her wrists, and she sank to her knees, sobbing, still begging. The TARDIS shook a little as the shockwave from the explosion of Almondrala started a chain reaction. He had read stories about it, heard the legend of it from nearby galaxies. Almondrala's volcanoes remained dormant throughout the entire history, until today. The entire crust of the planet cracked under the rising pressure of the molten core, causing it to explode, and destroying the moons orbiting it. The debris nearly destroyed its entire system, something the Doctor could not prevent as much as he wanted to.

A warning light came to life on the console and the Doctor sighed, putting the ship into stasis, the compression coils needed replacing. He put on his tool belt, stepping over Emmy as she cried. He tried to not let it bother him, but she could see her quivering, cold from her clothes being soaked. It made his chest hurt to leave her like that, but he needed to stand his ground.

The Doctor began to work, and Emmy picked herself up, wiping her face, cheeks red, nose running. She started towards the staircase to her room, and he turned, mouth open to say something.

"Don't." She coldly spat before he could speak, "Don't you dare speak to me. I don't want to hear any of your excuses."

She ran off to her room, he could hear the sound of her bare feet hitting the floor, and her cries echoing off the walls. The Doctor turned back to his ship, reaching up to the feel the bright stinging red handprint forming on his cheek.

* * *

><p>Emmy sprinted down the hallways, twisting and turning until she couldn't any longer. She had no idea where she was, lost in the labyrinth of the TARDIS, but she refused to care. She picked a door and sighed when she saw its contents. Just another bathroom, one with a claw foot tub and a stack of books ready for her use. Emmy wondered if the TARDIS had read her mind as she quickly shed her soaked clothes and turned on the taps, drawing a boiling hot bath. She had to get the salty brine scent off of her skin, to remove the seaweed from her hair. She climbed in, grabbing a book off the top of the pile and quickly cracking the spine. She concentrated on the printed word, struggling to lose herself in the story. She sat up; forcing herself to reread the passage she failed to comprehend. But the smell of the planet burning, the heat rising in the lagoon, the look on the Almondrans' faces when they realised their fate. And the screams, oh the screams of terror, they rang in their head, chilling her to the bone, her hearts racing.<p>

Unable to take it anymore, she slid to the bottom of the tub, to the silence that the water brought, she concentrated on the sound of her blood rushing through her veins, the rhythm of her double heart beat overpowering the screams of the innocent. Then the Doctor, he was so cross with her, how he had yanked her away without her consent, his harsh grip on her wrist, his jaw tight, and the anger in his eyes, the way he seemed not to care one bit.

She opened her eyes, to see the ink from the pages of her book seeping into the water, spiralling down towards her, turning the water a murky grey. She exhaled, watching as the bubbles rose to the surface, wondering if this was the same image the Almondrans saw as they watched their last breath leave them.


	10. Chapter 10: In the Shadow of Your Heart

A/N: Hi, guys. Just wanted to say thank you for reading and leaving such sweet comments. But I just wanted to send a shout out to Megan because she doesn't have an account. I wish I could pm you, but I just wanted to say thank you so so much. And certainly, I am not even close to Moffat, or even a mini version, but it's an enormous compliment! Anyways, thank you all so much for reading, and enjoy!

Chapter 10

Emmy downed another glass of champagne, wondering when they were going to start serving something stronger, watching couples on the dance floor dance along to the pounding music, listening to the tinkling of glasses and cutlery on porcelain, of the murmur of the guests around her. She whipped around when that unmistakeable noise rang through the hall, the guests not taking notice. She could see his silhouette in the entrance, and she turned away, choosing to push her way through the dance floor. She felt a hand grasp her wrist, and she turned to see him. He placed his hand on her waist, and cradled the other in his own, moving them along with the music. Emmy couldn't meet his eyes, ashamed of the way she acted earlier. He was kind, taking her straight to Dani's wedding, being so frustratingly understanding and smiling, acting as if nothing was amiss. Did it not affect him? To see an entire race end, to have her heart sunken in guilt and failure?

"Emmy, I-" He smiled, but it dissipated when he perceived how sorrowful she was.

"You told me time could be rewritten." she interrupted, finally meeting his eyes.

"Not every time. Most of the time, yes. But not this time. The event was too big. It affected the entire universe, built what it is today, and what it will become in the future."

She shook her head, "But they all died." her voice cracked, and she chastised herself for sounding weak. She swallowed her emotions the best she could, mentally kicking herself.

He just gave her this look, and for the first time she saw how ragged he was. She could see in his eyes all the deaths he had witnessed, a never ending list of the names of the innocent, of entire races and planets lost, and him, always rising from the ashes, no matter how much he yearns to join them, to just stop. To not be responsible for once in his life, to not have to be the hero, to not be depended on. And when he failed, oh, if he failed, he made sure that he would never hear the end of it. He would hold himself accountable.

He pulled her into his arms, unable to put the emotions into words. She laid her head on his chest, he sighed into her shoulder, and they swayed along with the music.

"I'm sorry." she mumbled into his jacket. She felt that it wasn't enough, that there weren't enough variations of the word to convey how terribly she felt.

"Don't be." he responded, taking her hand, squeezing it, and smiled reassuringly.

A bridesmaid called after Emmy, saying something about photos over the music.

Emmy returned the smile, "Duty calls." she followed the girl off the dance floor. The Doctor watched as she left, feeling a bit lighter.

* * *

><p>Emmy and the Doctor quietly slipped out of the reception, Emmy's arm linked with the Doctor's, as they ambled along the street back to the TARDIS. They paused as Emmy nearly tripped out of her heels, leaving them on the pavement, the Doctor carrying them for her. Emmy, buzzing and giggly from one too many glasses of champagne dragged the Doctor through a park, then plopped herself down on the dewy grass. She laid back, patting the space beside her. He joined her, wincing when the damp grass soaked through his tuxedo. He watched her, bathed in starlight, cheeks rosy from drink, something she might have had a bit too much of while he had none. She convinced him to try champagne during the toast, in which he promptly spat into a groomsman's face. Oh how she laughed, dragging him to the dance floor by hand, and he concentrated on the silk of the inside of her wrist.<p>

He laced his fingers together on his chest. He was ready to go, ready to get on to the next adventure. He twiddled his thumbs, wondering where he could pick up a part for his TARDIS that he needed, identifying every star in alphabetical order that he could see, balanced a chemical equation. He kept himself busy, because he didn't dare think of what happened back on Almondrala. Oh the look on her face when he refused to return, it haunted him, shaking him to his bones. One of utter betrayal, of a hero fallen from grace,

After awhile she turns on her side to face him, "You're quiet."

He keeps his eyes on the sky, and nodded. He's not used to this, the silence, this tranquil intimacy shared between them, and he wants to break it, he finds himself wanting to fill it with his ramblings on galaxies and quasars, things that are familiar to him, yet here he lies next to an enigma. An impossible miracle, an unconscious survivor.

"Never really got to see the stars like this when I was kid. The city lights always got in the way." She breaks the silence again with her velvet voice, hand wrapping around his arm.

"Come on, Emmy. All of time and space to see and you want to star gaze on Earth?" That came out harsher than he thought, and he chastised himself. Oh he is old, too old to enjoy star gazing. He is so jaded to the universe, rarely anything surprises him anymore. He used to think he could see the positive side of things through his companions, but not even that appeases him anymore.

"I like it here." She rolls back onto her back, shivering in the chill, perhaps too drunk to notice his callous tone, at least he hoped.

"Why?" he frowned, growing a bit miserable with the damp cold settling into his bones.

He was ready to move on, there was always another place to visit. He loathed sitting still, it made him think, gave him time to look back, to remember. He knew why he kept running. You keep running so you forget the pain, he tells himself. You keep skipping from galaxy to galaxy so you keep amazing yourself, so you can outweigh the negative with positive things. You make yourself forget how it felt to leave behind a friend by losing your own self in the stars. You take those moments of terror, of sadness, and loss, and you put them in little compartments in the back of your soul. And you ignore it, you never face it. You pack it away, until one day; you're bursting at the seams with everything that you ignored. It's not healthy, but it relieves the pain, even just for a little while. Because if you let yourself stand still, even for a second, the pain, and the guilt, and the anger will rise, and you fear what you become if it does. So from adventure to adventure he goes, and he always will, until the end of time. He's raring for an adventure now, but he settles for reaching out for her hand, but he didn't have the courage to grab it.

"Because I'm with you." he turned to face her at this, surprised to see her smiling at him. This silenced his thoughts, and then set them on fire like never before. He was unable to concentrate on anything but her, the way her dark curls surround her face like a halo, the sound of her soft breaths, the way a small cloud of mist escapes her lips in the chill of the night, the dip of her hip where earlier he had placed his hand, and he marvelled at how perfectly it had fit. "Can we do this forever?"

His hearts skipped a beat at the word, chuckling to cover his reaction, allowing himself to return her smile. "There's no such thing as forever, well, there is, but there isn't. It's all very timey wimey. " He continued on, waxing on and on the subject, but when he felt her fingers intertwine with his, the very action silenced him.

She shook her head in disagreement, surprisingly sober, "So forever? You and me?" she sounded unsure, fearful of his answer. She wasn't sure until now if this isn't she wanted, the running, the shooting, the fighting, the losses, all the bad things, but also the good things, the beauty, the exploring, the revelations. She considered the TARDIS her home now, especially after returning to Earth for the past several days. She saws the lives around her, although significant, they were so blissfully ignorant of what was beyond their boundaries. Emmy felt like she couldn't be any more alien than she was now, and she felt that she would be unable to cope with the domesticity of life on Earth.

He wondered about forever, even letting his imagination run wild of watching Emmy grow old with him. But a little part of him was sceptical. He didn't know how the extended time under the chameleon arch's effects had made an impression on Emmy. His tests were inconclusive, and he knew that only way they would find out is when the time would come for her to regenerate. And that was something he hoped she never had to experience until it was absolutely necessary. But he allowed himself a glimmer of hope, and that was enough for now.

His stomach lurched, recalling an old human saying about butterflies in his stomach, which he never quite understood until now. This is what he wanted, he and Emmy for the rest of time. He wanted to chart the stars with her, creating constellations of their own. He wanted to connect the dots across space and time, with her by his side. He wanted to wake up to that smile every morning, to that bottom lip caught between her teeth in concentration as he guided her hand on the controls of the TARDIS, to her laughter when they landed somewhere completely off course, to her ability to just look at him and see how he was hurting. He realized how dependent he was on her, and that terrified him to his very core.

He hesitantly raised their hands, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles, and resting them on his chest. "Sure. Forever."

* * *

><p>Emmy lay awake, staring at the ceiling, finding patterns that she knew did not exist. It had been, well, she wasn't really sure, she found it hard to keep track of time in the TARDIS, and she laughed to herself, how ironic that she couldn't keep track of time in a time machine. She tossed and turned, sighing. Her sleep cycles had become shorter and shorter until she was only sleeping a few hours a week. In a way, she was terrified to sleep, fearing the hooded figure that hunted her in her subconscious, always ending in her capture. She pulled the covers up to her chin, and forced her eyes shut, concentrating on the comforting hum of the ship, when she heard a crash. She quickly sat up, when another bang came from within the TARDIS. She climbed out of bed, snatching her robe off the hook as she went. She slowly padded down the hallway, pulling the robe on and tied it around her waist. She followed the alarming sounds down the corridor towards the console room. She peeked around the corner to see the Doctor through the glass floor, tool belt slung around his hips, tweed nowhere to be found, sleeves rolled up, ripping out wire after wire, tossing a wrench across the room, obviously infuriated. Emmy observed, unsure at what she should do. She had never seen him lose control, certainly not like this. She wondered how often, was this what he did when she went to bed? Either way, she knew this was something she wasn't supposed to see, and she slowly retreated, but only a couple steps back a voice stopped her.<p>

"I know you're there."

He wasn't sure why he said it. He was just going to let her go back to her room, to never speak of this, but his mouth disobeyed his mind.

Emmy returned to the edge of the staircase, to see through the glass, as the Doctor dropped whatever he was holding and hanging his head in his hands.

Emmy crossed the room, cautiously descending the steps, "Doctor? Are you okay?" she softly asked, reaching a hand out to him.

He shrugged her hand off, refusing to face her, "I'm fine, Gray."

Emmy scoffed, "Obviously not if you're destroying the TARDIS. I'm sure she really appreciates that."

Even though he couldn't see it, he could hear the smile in her voice, "Go back to bed, Gray."

She shook her head, "Never went to sleep. Want to talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about. Gray, I am perfectly fine." His voice was cold, calculated. She could see from his shoulders just how tense he was.

"You only call me Gray when you're cross. Obviously there's something wrong."

"I am bloody fine, Gray!" The Doctor rotated on his heel, bellowing.

Emmy just looked at him, and calmly replied, "No, you're not-"

"WHY DON'T YOU LISTEN TO ME WHEN I SAY I'M FINE? WHY DOES NOBODY LISTEN TO ME-"

"BECAUSE I KNOW YOU'RE NOT!" Emmy hollered back, surprising him.

The Doctor just looked at her, mouth hanging open, completely stunned. Emmy rarely raised her voice, and when she did, it meant she really cared about something. Her face was heartbreaking, eyes wide in concern, hands trembling.

She took a shaky breath, "I know you're not fine, Doctor. Even if you say you are-"

He scoffed, "Everything _is_ fine!"

"Just stop! Listen to me!" Emmy pleaded, and he turned away, fixing his bowtie.

She gave him a wry smile, "See, there you go again. You really are the worst liar in the universe, you know that? I know you're hurting, and you're cross, and you keep it all pent up inside. It's just, you put so much pressure on yourself to save everyone, even though you never asked for it, you volunteer. You always sacrifice so much of yourself for complete strangers, that I often wonder how much will be left."

Emmy reached out, placing her palm on his cheek, he turned to face her, ancient eyes meeting hers. Emmy's hearts wrenched, these were eyes that had seen toppled civilisations, countless wars, genocide, and endless suffering. And here he was at the epicentre of it all, witness to all that has been, and all that will ever be.

The Doctor watched her intently, as a silent tear rolled down her cheek, he quickly wiped it away with his thumb.

"So you can tell me anything, you know. 'Cause you're my best friend. And I'm worried about you." She gave him a melancholy smile.

He took a deep breath, nodding, and they wrapped their arms around each other.

"Emmy, you are incredible."

Emmy scoffed, "Me? Incredible? Never really thought about it, personally. But if you think so..."

"Oh I think so."

He breathed in the scent of her hair, kissing the top of her head, unable to put the gratitude he felt into words. But Emmy knew it didn't need saying.

* * *

><p>Emmy peeked over the edge of a large book, nearly double the size of her medical textbooks at home. "You're doing it wrong."<p>

He spun on his heel, "Emmy, I have been flying this ship for centuries now, much longer than you have been in it, so I think I know how to fix it."

Emmy tapped the cover of the book, "Can't you read? This is the flight manual. And you're doing it wrong!" She bounded off the chair, hoisting her book with her and laying it on the console in front of him. She yanked on the Zig Zag Plotter, reconnected the Flux Altimeter, and smiled in satisfaction as the ship immediately responded.

The Doctor picked up the book, examining it incredulously, "Where did you get this?"

"Found it shoved behind one of the sofas in the library. Some of the pages are torn out, wonder who did that." She plucked a Phillips head out of his tool belt and tightened the reactors of the Microkinetic Extrapolator.

The Doctor shot her a leery look, "Well, it's rubbish." He tossed the book over his shoulder, and straightened his bowtie. "I thought I was teaching you how to fly the TARDIS. And I happen to think I'm rather good at teaching."

"But not flying." Emmy tinkered with a switch, waiting for him to react.

He feigned offense, "Emmaline Gray! That was incredibly rude, I'm revoking your wings!" he poked his finger at her.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Doctor." She smirked, and he began his lesson on flying back in time.

* * *

><p>They landed with a smash, the Doctor wincing as Emmy pulled the brake. She was brilliant at flying the TARDIS so far, but still had so much to learn.<p>

Emmy sprinted to the door, as the Doctor quickly returned the TARDIS back to its proper state.

"Hey, are you coming or not?" Emmy called, hand on the latch waiting for him.

"A bit impatient, aren't we, Miss Gray?" he took his time stepping down the stairs, mocking her.

She stuck her tongue out at him, and he reciprocated the gesture. "Just excited, that's all. Where are we this time?"

"A place I think you would enjoy." and he opened the door to see the Palace of Versailles.

They stepped out into a cool spring day, the sun shined brightly down upon them, the breeze carrying the scent of the lush flowers.

Emmy turned to him, "When are we?"

The Doctor raised his wrist, inspecting his watch, "1775, no, 1778. No, I was right, April 1775. Early days for Marie Antoinette. This August her sister in law will give birth to an heir, causing all sorts of trouble. Then she will gamble away the fortunes of France for three days straight, I was there for that, not a pretty sight."

They ambled along a paved pathway; the garden was empty as far as they could tell. They peered around a hedge, but the garden was so expansive they doubted anyone had noticed their entrance. Emmy stepped up on the edge of a perfectly round pond, placing one foot in front of the other, arms held aloft. The Doctor stepped towards her, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Emmy stopped, glaring at him down her nose, "Don't you dare." She pointed an accusing finger into his chest.

The Doctor held his hands up, the picture of innocence, "I thought you trusted me!"

She eyed him, but couldn't keep a straight face; she broke out into a bright grin. She returned to stepping carefully on the narrow edge of the pool.

The pair was interrupted when a crowd of gasps rang out from behind them. The Doctor gulped, turning to see a gaggle of women, and in the very centre stood Marie Antoinette.

"What is she wearing? Are those trousers?" the women whispered amongst themselves, casting cautious and appalled glances at Emmy.

Emmy stepped down, joining the Doctor's side. "Is that really-"

"Yep."


	11. Chapter 11: Our Plan is Gold Dust

Chapter 11

Marie Antoinette, her curls piled upon her head, face shaded from a parasol, stepped forward, nodding at the pair.

The Doctor bowed, and Emmy followed, waiting to be addressed.

"How do you get into my garden?" she calmly asked, a small smile on her face.

"We just...arrived? I'm the Doctor, and this is Emmy." The Doctor quickly explained, hands flailing.

"Well, welcome to Versailles. I'm pleased to have you as guests." She smiled warmly at the pair.

"Thank you. It's very nice to meet you too, your majesty." The Doctor rubbed his hands together, smiling excitedly at Emmy.

"Please, have tea with us." She stepped forward closer to them, and said in a hush, nodding back to the group of mumbling women behind her, "Don't mind them, they're just used to old traditions."

The Doctor looked to Emmy with a wondering expression, and she shrugged in response, wondering how much trouble could they really get in by having tea with Marie Antoinette?

"Sure! We're free for right now, I think. Yes, nothing in the calendar. Absolutely nothing." The Doctor rambled, straightening his bowtie.

"Lovely!" Marie Antoinette linked her arm through Emmy's, leaning her head towards her, "You can call me Marie. I rather like your trousers, where did you get them?"

Marie pulled her along, the Doctor trailed along behind them, smirking at Emmy. But she looked back at him over her shoulder, wide eyed, eyes alight with exhilaration, yet she extended her free hand back to him. He skips to catch up, quickly taking her hand in his, relishing in the way their fingers intertwined perfectly.

"Henrik's in London." Emmy automatically answered, then cringed, seeing as Henrik's didn't exist in this time. "But you won't be able to get them, they're tailor made." She quickly covered

"They are magnificent, the way they show your womanly figure." Marie smiled at her, then showed Emmy up the steps into the palace.

A lady of her court marched up, face screwed like she had tasted something awful, "If she is to have tea with us, she must change."

Marie turned to her, haughtily replying "I say she is perfectly dressed."

"And what would the king think?" the woman countered, analyzing Emmy, who in return gave her a look of her own.

Marie just laughed, "The king thinks what the king thinks, I cannot control him. Nor do I care of his opinions on this certain matter."

The woman grabbed Emmy by the arm, "Well, I do! If she is to be a guest of the court," dragging her away, much to Emmy's dismay, and calling back over her shoulder "I shall have her properly clothed!"

The rest of the court followed, as Emmy looked back at the Doctor in horror, but he just smiled, arms crossed. They ushered Emmy through the palace, eventually reaching a room so extravagant, Emmy was afraid to touch anything in fear of breaking it.

Despite her resistance, the women managed to disrobe her, slipping a thin chemise over her head, and then another dress. Then came the corset, where Emmy tried to protest, but they managed to wrap it around her.

"Where are you from anyways?" the girl doing up the laces sneered, then yanked on them, causing Emmy to gasp.

"London. England." She managed to get out as she felt her chest being constricted.

The woman pulled again, and Emmy gasped once more, surprised at the tiny woman's sudden strength.

"Could you pull that any tighter?" Emmy exclaimed, glaring at the woman in the mirror.

She just met Emmy's eyes in her reflection and tugged as hard as she could.

* * *

><p>The Doctor reclined in a chair, waiting on Emmy to return from being properly dressed. Marie chatted away, petting one of her dogs. Soon, her ladies in waiting started to file in, curtsying then taking their places at the table. Then Emmy followed last, tottering on unfamiliar wood shoes and unable to manage her wide skirt. Her dress was a pale blue, and her hair was piled up on top of her head, just like Marie Antoinette's. She shot him a look, looking a little angry with an arched eyebrow.<p>

The Doctor covered his mouth, trying to suppress a laugh, he pulled her chair out for her, smirking at her.

She arranged her skirts, gingerly sitting down, "Trust me, you wouldn't be laughing if you were wearing a corset."

The Doctor dunked a biscuit into his tea, "Eh, been there, done that. Not too bad." And popped the biscuit in his mouth, wiggling his eyebrows at Emmy.

Emmy stirs her tea, shaking her head, "You never fail to surprise, Doctor."

Tea went on for ages, more cakes and types of tea were brought out course after course, each one met with delight by the French women around them. They chattered on about the latest styles coming from Paris and who was marrying who. Emmy kept fanning herself, finding it difficult to breathe, and the Doctor joined in on the gossip, giving Emmy an excited look who just rolled her eyes in response.

The quiet afternoon was interrupted when a swarm of hunting dogs entered the room, with their owner proudly marching in with a handful of pheasants. Emmy watched as every maid stood and curtsied, and Emmy slowly followed, nearly pitching herself over her chair. King Louis XVI greeted his wife, patting his powdered wig, and smoothing his red jacket, then handed the pheasants to a servant, and took his place at the table.

Marie flinched away at his touch, and Emmy could only see herself and Nick reflected in the royal couple. Emmy's stomach turned and she looked away, concentrating on the ornate fan in her grasp. But her memories flooded over her, the nights of never ending screaming, of a hand lifted to strike, of things gathered and a door slammed. Then the grovelling followed, the tearful apologies, the sweet nothings whispered in her ear.

It was all too much, she needed to breathe, she needed to get out of there.

Emmy stood, ignoring the Doctor's concerned glance. She dashed out of the room, and down the corridor, through the twisting corridors of the palace, finally coming to a stop in a room covered in red velvet. She smoothed her hand along the wall, pausing at the window, watching the sun set over the gardens of Versailles. She heard footsteps, assuming it was the Doctor, she turned to see King Louis step beside her.

"Impressive isn't it?" he remarked, staring at Emmy.

"Very, it's very beautiful." She responded stiffly, still watching the sun set.

"I don't think we've been acquainted. What is your name?" He took Emmy's hand, placing a kiss on her knuckles. Her nose wrinkled at the acrid smell of his makeup.

"Emmaline Gray." She answered, arching an eyebrow. "King Louis, right?"

He reached up and tugged on a curl, and ran his other hand up Emmy's arm, "You are quite beautiful, Miss Gray."

Emmy stepped away, skin crawling, "Thank you?"

He came up behind her, attempting to wrap his hands around her waist. She felt like she had just swallowed a stone, "You would make a fine addition here at Versailles. You could have your own room, right next to mine." He whispered in her ear, "I could make you a duchess, wouldn't you like that?"

Emmy tore away from the king, and placed a stinging slap to his cheek. He turned bright red, angering instantly, bellowing for the guards.

"Execute her!" The king commanded his men, fuming.

Emmy immediately sprinted away, making her way back through the palace. Servants were closing in, screaming after her, nearly grabbing her dress. Emmy made her way through the labyrinth of rooms, wincing at the heels pinching her feet, the guards on her tail.

The Doctor held the group of women enraptured in one of his long-winded telling of an adventure when Emmy burst through the door.

He immediately stood, "Emmy?"

"Run!" she called, and he followed her down the steps of the palace, the women following them, standing at the edge of the steps, watching their retreat into the garden.

The Doctor turned back to see at least fifty guards on their tail, bayonets held ready for use.

"What did you do?" the Doctor called, weaving his way through a hedge.

They heard cries of "Execute her!" over the hill, and Emmy responded as they dived below a bush and watched the group of guards scamper past them. "The king wanted me to be his new mistress, and I slapped him."

"Well, that would do it." the Doctor let out an amused laugh.

They sprinted again once the coast was clear, the Doctor laughing, turning to see Emmy with the front of her dress balled up in one hand, holding her hand out to him, adventure in her eyes. He took her hand, and they dashed to the TARDIS, the Doctor fumbling with the key. They burst into the ship, locking the door behind them. Emmy sighed, kicking off her shoes, as the Doctor immediately took off, muttering to himself.

* * *

><p>Emmy sifted the flour, slowly adding water a tablespoon at a time. She hummed a tune that she didn't recognize, something she had heard walking through the market in a rural Georgia town. She handed him a shopping list and he jumped at the idea, flying across the universe to gather everything. Late May peaches from a Georgia farm in the 1950's, the finest flour from the merchant planet Castora 86, an egg, although she wasn't entirely sure if it came from a chicken, but she didn't worry.<p>

She had grown restless, especially in the times between the running, which had become quite often as the TARDIS often needed repairs. She enjoyed assisting him repair the ship, getting up to her elbows in grease, dodging the showers of sparks that resulted from the Doctor's frenetic instructions. She had often spent hours in the library, but the Doctor avoided the room at all costs, so she absolved to reading in the console room. But she needed something of her own, something that was familiar, that she could have control over. So she relied on basic chemistry, searching through the library for a book of recipes, finding the perfect one. The Doctor had asked her why when she handed him the list, she merely shrugged in response, but had rationalized her actions by assuming he had to have a birthday soon, she thought. She had been travelling with him long enough for it to pass, she was sure.

He worked next to her, peeling and slicing peaches, fiddling with the apron she made him wear, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. She mixed the crust, pausing to rub her temples. Her head was aching, heart racing, a feeling of overwhelming dread creeping up her spine.

"Emmy, are you alright?" He wiped his hands on his apron, arching an eyebrow at her.

She nodded, "Yeah. I'm fine." She continued on, but was shaken by another wave of trepidation wash over her. She lowered her shaking hands to rest on the counter, "You know what? No. There's something wrong, Doctor. Something terrible wrong."

He dropped his knife on the counter with a clatter, coming to her side, "What, what is it?" he urged, eyes wide.

Suddenly, the phone is ringing. They can hear it echo through the metal corridors of the TARDIS.

They shared a worried look, then sprinted to the console room, the Doctor scrambling to answer the phone. He holds it up to his ear, brow furrowed, then passes it to Emmy.

She lifted it to her ear to hear sobbing, "Hello?"

"Oh thank god! Emmy! You're alive!" Dani sighed, but couldn't hold the sobs back.

"Dani, Dani, what's wrong?" Emmy felt like she had swallowed a brick. She turned to see the Doctor holding his hand out to her. She took it, and he squeezed her hand, a questioning look on his face. A silent _Are you okay?_ She squeezed back, shaking her head. He nodded, rubbing his thumb over hers.

"I don't know, these things came, and now the government has issued a national lockdown. We can't leave home, Patrick is stuck at the hospital, they won't let him leave. But these _things_, Emmy, they're monsters. I saw one shoot down Mrs Winters from down the street for going to fetch the post. We don't know what they are, but they're everywhere, from what we can tell."

"Um...Okay, okay. Dani, give me a mo, okay?" Emmy covered the phone with her palm. "There's been an invasion on Earth."

He wiggled his fingers for the phone, and Emmy sighed, "Hey, Dan? I'm going to hand you over to my friend. We should be on our way soon."

She passed the phone over, and he immediately took off, chatting away, Emmy rolling her eyes. He tucked the phone between his cheek and shoulder, plugging in coordinates. He paused to wave his hands at her.

"What?" She asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Aren't you going to fly?" he asked, as if it was supposed to be obvious.

Emmy threw a lever, "Alright, no need to get pushy. Wasn't sure if you actually wanted me to drive or not."

He pointed to the phone in his hand, "Can't you see I'm a bit busy?"

"Even I can drive and talk at the same time!" she giggled, shaking her head. She untied her apron, tossing it onto the flight chair. She began the insane dance around the console, the Doctor mimicking her actions. They turned in sync, pressing buttons, throwing levers, adjusting levels.

They rushed to the door, throwing on their coats. The Doctor paused, hand on the door.

"Emmy, this world, this Earth, there is no telling what may happen. I just want you to be prepared."

She nodded, "I know, travelling with you is dangerous. I accepted that fact a long time ago. Now cheer up, it might be fun!" she beamed at him, pushing past him through the door.

The Doctor smiled to himself, watching Emmy step out into the brisk cold of London, and straightened his bowtie. He could hear her laughing, and he marvelled at her spirit.

"Doctor, you might want to come out here!" Emmy called, and he locked the door behind him to see Emmy with her hands up, an army of identical soldiers surrounding her. They were garbed in a uniform the Doctor had never seen before, black as night, berets atop their perfectly coiffed golden hair, the massive gun held in capable hands.

"Run?" she breathlessly asked, looking over her shoulder at him. He nodded, and they sprinted off, ignoring the sounds of cocked guns. They weaved through the London neighbourhood, guided by the Doctor's sonic screwdriver turned torch. The entire area was dark, the alleyways melding into the night sky, no light coming from the houses, not a single soul on the street save the army, even the street lamps were off. The soldiers were quickly on their tail, passing the command to hold fire to one another. Emmy navigated the way, identifying Dani's house. She guided them forward, almost there, just one street away, when a shot rang out.

The Doctor and Emmy spun on their heels to face their pursuers, hand raised above their heads. A tall decorated soldier stepped from the masses, completely different from the others. He had dark hair, a charismatic smile that didn't reach his icy eyes.

"If you don't mind, every person who breaches protocol must go through a scan, especially since you two appeared out of a police box. Identification please."

Emmy pulled out her wallet, handing over her ID. The Doctor passed over his psychic paper.

"Where did you get that?" he murmured to her.

"Thought I might need it. Good thing I was prepared."

"Yeah. Good thing." The Doctor responded, carefully watching the commander as he fiddled with a handheld machine, a blue light emanating from it. He then stepped forward, passing the scanner from Emmy's head to her feet, doing the same to the Doctor.

"Identification match." A pinging sound and a cool voice came from the scanner.

"Alright, it's them. Round them up!" the commander gestured to the pair.

Emmy just looked at the Doctor as he fiddled with his screwdriver, pointing it at the soldiers. They all clutched at their heads, a painful ringing radiating from the screwdriver.

"Run!"

They dashed away, the soldiers too distracted by the noise to follow them. They raced around the corner, into a dark alleyway. They soniced open the back gate, hurrying through Dani's garden. They unlocked the door, slamming it behind them and locked it back, to find a shocked Dani in her kitchen.

"Emmy!" she leaned against the counter, hand on her heart, "you're here! You're actually here!"

Emmy crossed to Dani, encompassing her in a hug, "Of course I'm here. You needed me, so I came. How are you?"

Dani sighed, "I'm alright, considering the circumstances. Um, what is he doing to my door?" Dani broke the hug to watch as the Doctor soniced the French door to the garden.

"Securing it. We're in a spot of trouble. Whatever's taken over London is looking for us."

"Why is the electricity out?" the Doctor turned on his heel, still adjusting the sonic.

Dani shrugged, "Council's doing repairs, or that's what we were told. We're managing with candles. Food's all gone bad though."

"Hmmm." He changed the settings, then headed back to sonicing. "Did the lights happen to go out the day the Autons arrived?"

"Autons?" Emmy asked, crossing her arms.

He twirled, crossing the room to meet them, "Yes, Autons! Interesting race, if you can call it that. They're plastic shells inhabited by the Nestene Consciousness. Had an old friend that was turned into one, a Roman one actually. They've certainly upgraded since then, with weapons and all. It's terribly exciting isn't it?" He waggled his fingers in front of their faces, beaming.

Emmy and Dani shared a sceptical look then burst out laughing. "Not particularly, Doctor. Since I have no idea what you just said." Dani replied, a small smile spreading across her cheeks.

"Aliens. Plastic robot aliens that invaded Earth. Don't worry, we'll take care of it." Emmy stood beside the Doctor, who just muttered to himself.

Dani shook her head, her eyes wide, "I think I'll just make some tea." She returned to the kitchen, gathering the kettle.

"Just don't use anything that runs on electricity, Dani. Any spike in their scans will lead them to us!" He called to her, she turned to give him a quick salute.

"Autons. And they scanned us, so that means they can find us, right?" Emmy whispered to the Doctor, trying to keep Dani out earshot.

"Right. If I'm right, which I'm pretty sure I am considering I've scanned them with my screwdriver, they've shut down the power so they can find us much easier."

"How does that help?" Emmy arched her eyebrow.

"Because they're searching for binary vascular systems and-"

"Binary vascular systems have two heartbeats. Double the heartbeat, double the electrical current. If they take out the lights it just cuts out interference." Emmy finished for him, "That's brilliant!"

"Yes, very brilliant for them, not so great for us." He placed his hands on her shoulders, "But I think Dani has some questions that she wants you to answer. I'll handle this." He gave her a slight push towards the kitchen.

"But what are you going to do?"

"Oh, just create an electromagnetic field that should shield us until we figure things out. Now go, Gray."

Emmy refused, turning back to him, "But what do I tell her?" she hissed.

"The truth, of course!" He pushed her again, and he returned to sonicing.

* * *

><p>Emmy stirred milk into her tea, then making another cup with three times as much sugar as hers, flinching every time there was a loud bang coming from the living room. Emmy took the cup, crossing into the other room, where the Doctor was working on securing the door, intently sonicing everything.<p>

"Doctor, here's your tea." Emmy waited for a response, but he just grumbled something, stepping onto the sofa in front of the windows.

Emmy sighed, setting the mug on the coffee table, "Just drink it before it gets cold, alright?"

He muttered something that sounded like an affirmative response. Emmy returned to the kitchen to sit beside Dani with her own mug of tea.

Dani watched him throw a cushion aside, brow knitted together, "Is he alright?"

Emmy turned to watch him in the living room, mumbling to himself as he soniced the windows. She smiled warmly, "Yeah, I think so. He gets like that sometimes. You get used to it after awhile." She frowned, "Dani, exactly how long has it been since your wedding?"

Dani's face fell, "Three years. It's been hard without you, you know." Dani sounded bitter, taking a drink of her tea, "So what have you been doing since you left? How did you get here so fast? I thought you were in Australia!"

Emmy took a deep breath, "You know when I first left and told you I had gone travelling. Dani," Emmy placed her hand on Dani's, "You have to promise not to freak out, okay?"

Dani nodded and waited for Emmy to continue, "I wasn't in Australia. I was with the Doctor, in his TARDIS. It's a spaceship and it time travels. So it was incredibly easy to get here from wherever we were. And then there's something else…" Emmy trailed off, her stomach turning into knots.

Dani leaned forward, "What? Tell me."

"Please don't freak out, okay? I'm not Human. I'm a Time Lord. Which isn't much different from being Human except that we're from Gallifrey, we have two hearts, and various other capabilities. But you have to swear, Dani, swear to me that you will not tell anyone, not even your husband, nor my mum. You know that if anyone finds out they would throw both the Doctor and I into a lab and I'd never see you again." She blurted out, blushing creeping up to her cheeks.

Dani took a sip of her tea, and sat back in her chair, shaking her head. "Sorry, it's just a lot to process."

Emmy sighed, feeling relieved that now someone other than the Doctor knew. She waited as Dani rubbed her eyes, then sat forward again, elbows on the table.

"Two hearts? Really? And a time travelling ship?" she sounded excited, eyes gleaming.

"And through space." Emmy smiled, "So you're not freaked out?"

Dani shook her head, "Not really. It's not like you sprouted an extra head or something. So he just flies you anywhere?"

Emmy nodded, "Anywhere we want to go. Most of the time we end up in trouble. I've already been banned from six planets, and one entire galaxy." Emmy laughed at the memories.

The Doctor had scrambled to the table, "Emmy, I need your hair pins."

Emmy slowly reached for them, taking them out of her hair and passing them over to him. He held them up, inspecting them, an excited look on his face. "Perfect!" he exclaimed, then planted a hurried kiss to Emmy's forehead and leaped over a chair back to the other room.

Dani looked between the two travellers, shaking her head, yet smiling. "So what's going on there, then?"she leans forward so the Doctor can't hear her whisper, "You two are quite a pair, aren't you?"

"Dani, please." Emmy cast her a warning look at her tone, sounding like she was about to give her a load of relationship advice.

Dani looked back at the Doctor, who was sonicing Emmy's hair pins, pausing to take a drink of his tea. "You don't find it a bit odd? He takes you across the universe and doesn't ask for anything in return?" she whispered, an uneasy look on her face.

Emmy shook her head, "No. Look, Dani, we're friends. It's kind of hard to explain, but we're close. He's the only other Time Lord I know, even though there's a planet out there full of them. And we travel together and explore the universe. It's amazing, Dani, I can't even begin to describe how wonderful it is."

Dani ran her fingers through her hair, "I mean, if the lifestyle suits you, then fine. And you may be an alien, but just remember what you left here every once in awhile. You should visit your mum, she worries about you."

Emmy nodded, "I know. It's just, it's been five years for you, but it seems like only a year for me. I don't know why, but time seems to be going so much faster on Earth. We try to land as close to where I was when I left, only that it seems that time has gone by anyways. I'm sorry I haven't been by more often."

Dani takes her hand, smiling sweetly, "It's alright. I mean, if I had the chance to travel the universe, I would take it. I just want you to be happy."

"But I am happy! It's just different from what other people think."

"But how long are you going to travel with him? You had a life here, Em! And you threw it all away when you ran off. You had responsibilities here. What happens if he decides that he doesn't want you travel with him anymore? It can't last forever, can it?"

Emmy sat back in her chair, mulling over what Dani had said, thinking of that night after her wedding, dew soaked through her dress, as they contemplated forever. "I'm…I'll just-" she stood, placing her cold mug of tea in the sink and joined the Doctor at his side, offering her assistance.

Emmy nodded, "So what can I do?"

The Doctor beamed, snapping his fingers and reached into his jacket, to pull out another sonic screwdriver. He tossed it over to Emmy, who examined it, then tried it out, pointing the screwdriver at the door, and heard a satisfying click.

She beamed, holding it up, marveling at how it fit perfectly into her hand, "Really? Did you make this?"

He crossed his arms, smiling smugly, "Well…Yeah."

She tried it out again, only to have the lamp on the side table explode, she jumped in response, then giggled.

"Still have some fine tuning to do." The Doctor cringed,

She tossed it in between her hands, grinning, "I love it. Thank you." She elevated onto the tips of her toes, steadying her hands on his shoulders to place a kiss on his cheek.

The Doctor gave Emmy a momentary look of concern, then gave her instructions. He watched as she followed them perfectly, giving him a smile that didn't reach her eyes. He turned back to see Dani at the sink, washing the cups, her hands shaking. Emmy sighed, pocketing her sonic in her jacket pocket.

"I think we're okay for now." She stated, lighting another candle with a match.

He relaxed on the sofa, "I believe so." He patted the space next to him and she joined him. "Even then, we still need to find where they came from."

She laid her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her, "What if they find us first?"

"Then we run. I've seen Autons before, and they're usually manageable, but this new generation. They are relentless." He shook his head, sighing. He was feeling lost, and helpless.

"If we can just get back to the TARDIS-"

"And leave Earth here defenceless? Gray, you wouldn't dare."

"I meant if we attracted them away from Earth, wouldn't they follow our electrical currents? Then we can fly away in the TARDIS and they would leave Earth, right?"

"Or they could harm Earth anyways. But where do they come from?"

Emmy fiddled with the edge of her dress, nervous and frightened. "I wish we were back with Marie Antoinette."

He scoffed, "Even with the king want to execute you?"

"It's better than an army out to kill both of us!"

He rubbed her arm, pulling her closer, "I wouldn't say kill, I'd say something much worse."

She just stared at him, mouth open, "Well, you're cheery."

The Doctor's ears perked up when he heard mumbling coming from the kitchen. He crossed the room, turning back to say "You're one to talk," and entered the kitchen.

He found Dani clutching a mobile phone to her ear, he immediately snatched it out of her hands, tossing it across the room to hear it shatter against the wall.

"What did you do that for?" she barked, immediately incensed.

"I said, don't use anything with electricity! And what do you do, try to make a phone call?"

"My husband is stranded out there with those _things_ and you expect me just to sit idly by and do nothing?" Dani retorted, crossing her arms, sizing up the Doctor.

The Doctor stepped back, "Well, no. We'll solve that problem. Promise. But please, no more electricity, we may have just given them a clue."

"Doctor," Emmy held her screwdriver aloft, scanning the room. "The barrier is dissipating. We only have so much time."

"Gray, try to rebuild it."

Emmy began the process they had only begun a short while ago.

He stared as if he could see through the ceiling, then snapped back into reality. He paced the kitchen, making his rounds around the table. He grew increasingly frustrated, at one point tossing his screwdriver across the room with a shout.

In the far distance, they could hear the marching footsteps of the soldiers coming their way. Emmy's chest tightened, the Doctor struggling to find a solution.

He regretfully sighed, wiping his hand over his face, "Emmy, we're going to have to run."

She dropped her screwdriver, "I know." She went to the window, peeking through the curtains. "They're about a block away. Think we can make it back to the TARDIS?"

"We don't have a choice." The Doctor slipped his coat back on, pocketing his screwdriver.

Emmy crossed to Dani, wrapping her arms around her, "It was so good to see you. I'll be back before you know it."

Dani clung to her, "Just don't do anything stupid, okay?"

"I promise." They broke apart, smiles melancholic. Emmy crossed to the French doors, releasing the electromagnetic barrier and unlocking the doors. She peeked her head through, then exited to the garden.

The Doctor straightened his bowtie, waving at Dani.

"Take care of her." Dani entrusted, placing her hand on his arm, "She's very fond of you, you know. I can tell. You have to promise me something."

"And what is that?" He implored, throat going dry with worry.

"Keep her safe. You have to promise me that you'll keep her safe. You two live a life that I will never understand, but please, Doctor, keep her safe." Dani pleaded, tears in her eyes.

The Doctor nodded, covering her hand with his own, "I promise."


	12. Chapter 12: We Come Running

Chapter 12: We Come Running

They ran across crimson stars and galaxies on the edge of the universe. They sprinted until their laboured lungs and sore muscles could go no more. They spent night after night awake, unable to rest, for fear had taken over their lives. They wearily kept a look out for each other in crowded spaces, preferring the cosy safe confines of the TARDIS, but restlessness got the best of them each time, for there were only so many board games to occupy their minds (though she had found herself victorious in eighty-two out ninety-nine games of chess, before he became so frustrated he threw the board into a supernova as she flashed a devilishly smug smirk at him). Their nights were spent murmuring stories to each other over mugs of tea, knees knocking together as they hid away for the night on some obscure planet, in a random hotel, tales of childhood illnesses, of the day her father left, of his childhood on Gallifrey, of the companions before her (she particularly liked those, especially those about Sarah Jane, she teared up with joy when he told her how she found him so many years later.)

And one night after a week of running, they snapped, arguing until their throats were hoarse, tears were shed, he secretly marvelled at the fact that when they were both incredibly frustrated, they ran their fingers through their hair, so even if there was a endless canyon forming between them, they were still in sync no matter what, and they collapsed into the comfort of each other's arms because they knew it was all for naught; they were simply terrified.

They stayed in many places, a new planet, a new galaxy every night. Not much different from their adventures before, but their fear of being found overshadowed their enthusiasm for exploration. It was one night on a planet that was forever submerged in a torrential downpour that they found them. They were lounging on the carpet playing a game of cards as the lights flickered and thunder rolled when the door was kicked open and the man from the front desk warned them that someone was looking for them. They scrambled down the stairs to the basement where they had hidden the TARDIS, taking flight again. Yet the Autons were waiting outside, shooting and attempting to enter the TARDIS. They had locked their tracking signals onto the TARDIS, following them through the vortex.

They shared a knowing look, disappointed in themselves, taking a deep breath to face the facts of the situation. They had run out of time, out of places to hide, out of every resource they could ever think of.

The Doctor rummaged through a container, time was running out, he needed it now.

"Let me help. What are you looking for?" Emmy called from above, hands wrapped around the railing, brow furrowed, hearts fluttering. The ship rocked back and forth, careening to dodge missiles, rays, and explosives that attempted to breach her hull.

"It's a-AHA! Got it." He carried the strange instrument aloft, lips pressed into a line, as he connected it to the console, typing in a few characters.

"Emmy, this is what your parents used to hide you on Earth as a human. I'm going to change you to a human, the TARDIS will give you new memories and a new life, that way the Autons can't detect your heartbeat, and you'll be safe." They both flinched as gunshots made contact with the TARDIS.

"What about you?" she eyed the contraption with fear.

"Someone has to look after you." He chuckled softly.

"So you won't change too?" she picked up the instrument, eyeing it incredulously.

He shook his head, "I have to restore you before three months, or it'll cause damage. So I can't change. But we'll be fine. Trust me?"

She passed it to him, "Why don't you use it? I can look after you. Three months isn't so long!"

He stepped forward, placing the headset on the console, and placing his hands on either side of her face, "Not this time. This is the only way I can ensure your safety, Emmaline." He stated gravely, his words heavy.

She didn't respond, just looking to him, placing her hands on his shoulders, then slowly shook her head.

"Please." He breathed.

She slowly nodded, allowing him to set the silver contraption on her head, securing a strap under her chin.

"Still have that locket of yours?" he asked, giving her a small smile when she pulled it by the chain from her shirt, eyes wide.

"I won't remember you?" her voice small, eyes wet.

"No," he placed his hands on her cheeks, wiping away an escaped tear with his thumb, "But I'll be there. Don't worry, Emmy."

She nodded, and he placed a tender kiss to her forehead, going to the console to begin the sequence. His chest tightened when he heard a sinister hum unlike the ship begin, expecting Emmy to scream. Instead he heard nothing but silence from her, hands balled into fists, eyes clamped shut, teeth grit so hard he was sure they might break under the pressure. He remembered the last time he did this, he had wailed and cried in pain. It wasn't an easy process, one of the worst things he had ever gone through, yet Emmy had barely made a peep. It wouldn't be long until she was unconscious and she would wake as a new person. The TARDIS had already landed on her own, in their new home for the next three months.

He kept an attentive eye on her, catching her when she went limp. He released her from that awful machine, scooping her up in his arms, brushing hair back from her face like he did so long ago when he met her. He smiled fondly at the memory, as he kicked the doors open, sighing.

* * *

><p>Marie Powell signed in on the time sheet, hanging her royal blue cape in the washroom, and taking a quick glance in the reflective glass of the window to make sure her cap was straight. It was her first week on the ward, and she was still new to everything. She lived in a flat with four other nurses, who spent their time going down to the nightclubs with their soldier lovers. Marie chose to stay in instead, studying intensely, to keep everything from nursing school in her mind. The Matron was strict, and had only one blank facial expression. Marie found her tiresome, and often tuned her out. She worked from seven in the morning until seven in the evening, where after she would help with dinner, then leave for her flat, sometimes stopping in the bookshop down the street to admire the leather bound novels that she could never afford on her nurse's salary.<p>

* * *

><p>Marie quietly tied the bandages, patting the soldier, and marking his chart. She went to the cabinet, to find that it was empty.<p>

"Nurse Tallis, I'm going to fetch some more bandages." She called to the head nurse, who simply nodded in response.

She exited the ward, to see a flash of tweed disappear around the corner. Something inside her awakened, and she quickened her pace to catch it. When she rounded the corner, the corridor, but she saw a door shut. She marched to the door, politely knocking on it. When she received no reply, she knocked again, and went for the handle, only to find it locked, even though the door did not require a key.

"Excuse me! Who is in the supply closet?"

There was a crash, and a muffled voice, but the door opened swiftly for her to gasp, stepping back several paces.

The Doctor stepped out of the closet, almost knocking over a stack of clean sheets, but forced them back into their place.

"Um, hello." He greeted, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

She eyed him wildly, this was the man from her dreams. The one with the blue box that showed her the stars. It couldn't be true, she must be dreaming now. "Hello?"

He shoved his hand out to her, "I'm John Smith. Professor, actually, but I think that sounds a bit stuffy outright, don't you think?" She looked completely different, curls pinned back, cheeks marked softly with rouge that also matched her lips. The uniform suited her, the soft cornflower blue dress in stark contrast to the white apron. But that smile, that was the Emmy he knew, and he felt a bit more relaxed knowing she was safe.

She smiled at him, shaking his hand, "Marie Powell. Nurse. It's nice to meet you. Feels like we've…"

"Met before?" he finished, entranced by her.

She nodded, and they fell into a comfortable silence, still hand in hand. The moment was broken swiftly with a loud holler, wondering where Marie was with bandages. She shook her head, as if to wash off the moment, sliding her hand from his, and slipping around him to fill her arms with rolls of bandages.

"Excuse me. The Matron is calling. It was a pleasure to meet you, Professor Smith." She called over her shoulder as she headed back down the hallway swiftly.

A roll of bandages fell from her arms, and he followed her path, clambering to pick it up, holding it up, "Nurse…Powell." She had already entered the ward, filling the small cabinet. He passed the ward, to see her look up from a patient, meeting his gaze, and smiling.

He began to head back to the university. He had papers to grade. And Autons to conquer. But that would come another day. He stuck his hands in his pockets, smiling to himself, hearts so much lighter than before.

* * *

><p>The Doctor watched from afar as Emmy sat next to a severely injured soldier. Paralyzed, from he could tell, from the lack of movement in his lower limbs. He watched, as Emmy cracked open a book and began to read to him. The soldier ogled at her, saying something that caused Emmy's cheeks to flush a lovely pink. The Doctor watched as the soldier grasped her free hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.<p>

The Doctor was nearly green with envy, flexing his own, the memory of her fingers intertwined in his surfacing, but he reminds himself, that jealously requires possession, and he turns, nearly knocking into a nurse with a tray of medicines, his blood rushing through him, his head cloudy.

* * *

><p>Marie yawned, taking a sip of her tea and frowning. There wasn't any more sugar, and the milk was severely rationed. Everything went out to the front, to the soldiers fighting. She shuddered, and felt guilty for frowning at her plain tea. It was her third night shift in a row, a punishment given to her by the Matron for talking back to a doctor.<p>

Everyone was asleep as far as she knew, and she routinely checked their vitals. She loathed working night shifts, for there was always one or two that would pass in their sleep. She was glad that they didn't suffer, but it was always sad to see them go. As numbed as she was to death, it was still a shock to her system.

She rounded the room, checking vitals once more before heading to the restroom to wash her hands. When she rounded the corner of the dim corridor, she founded the supply closet door open, where she heard rustling. She slowly approached it, making out a dark figure.

"Hello?" she timidly asked, guarding herself with the only reasonable weapon, a pen.

The figure turned wildly, dropping a duffel bag on the ground, which all sorts of supplies spilled out.

"Are you stealing supplies?" she called out, suddenly outraged. They were undersupplied as it was, she certainly didn't need anyone taking any more.

"No, no, no!" a recognizable voice, and the Doctor stepped from the closet.

"Now why would I steal hospital supplies when there's a war on?" he smiled, sweeping his hair back into place.

"Professor Smith, what are you doing here? You've given me such a fright!" Marie let out a small relieved laugh.

"Well, I was trying not to get caught." He muttered, bashfully looking away.

She knelt, starting to pick up the supplies, examining them as she went. "What are you doing with all of this?"

"Just doing my part. Didn't want anyone else to know."

Marie nodded, "Can I ask…"

"Why haven't been called to serve?" he sighed, "Heart murmur. Not fit for battle."

She nodded, "So you're keeping the hospital stocked?"

He shrugged, "Have to help somehow."

She beamed at him, "That's one of the most courageous things I've ever seen." She placed her hands on his shoulders, leaning up on her tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Now, let's get these supplies sorted."

She smiled at him, and he returned it. They sorted through them all quickly. She checked her watch, and frowned. "I've got to go, rounds will start in fifteen minutes." She walked him down the corridor, letting him out of a service entrance.

"Professor Smith?" she called from the cracked door.

He turned back, "Yes, Nurse Powell?"

"Thank you. And you can call me Marie."

"You can call me John." He straightened his bowtie, nodding. "Goodnight, Marie."

She chuckled, "Goodnight, John."

* * *

><p>Marie signed into the time sheet, hanging her coat in the cupboard. She straightened her cap, and headed to report to the Matron. She greeted several of the patients, making her way over to Corporal Benjamin Matthews bed, where he was surrounded by several doctors and nurses, who pulled a screen around the area. She pushed through the swarm of people, to see the Corporal rubbing his chest, gasping for breath.<p>

"Septicemia. Make him comfortable." The doctor sadly stated, hanging his chart back on the end of the bed, and walking away with his team, leaving the Matron and Marie.

Marie rushed to his side, taking a cloth from the basin next to the bed, dipping it in the cool water, and placing it on his forehead to help the fever. The Corporal slipped in and out of consciousness, and the Matron squeezed Marie's shoulder, allowing her to stay by his side.

She tended for him all morning, and when it was time for lunch, she didn't dare to leave his side. He had no one, no family, all had been lost in the Blitz. His grip on her hand was so tight she knew her hand would be sore, but she didn't mind. The doctors came by after lunch, pulling her into an office, telling her that he was lucky if he survived the day. She nodded, her heart sinking.

When he did pass, he woke for a few seconds, gripping her hand so tightly she thought she would never have feeling in it again. Then he took his last breath, and she pulled the sheet over his head. She solemnly told the Matron, not meeting her eyes, trying to hold it together. She tried to continue on with her duties, but in the middle of changing the sheets on the beds, her heart clenched, and she couldn't take it anymore.

She sprinted out of the ward, vision blurred by her tears. She rounded the corner, only to bump into someone.

"Sorry, so sorry." She cried, looking up to meet John's worried eyes.

"Nurse Powell, what's the matter?" he politely asked, pulling her aside.

She tried to speak, but all that came out was a sob. She shook her head, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Okay. Okay. Let's get you some fresh air. That's exactly what you need, a bit of fresh air will cheer you right up!" He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, leading her down the corridor and through the service entrance, to step into the early evening light, a slight chill on the wind.

He offered her his hand, and she took it, and he pulled her in, letting her arms circle around him under his jacket, letting her sob into his shoulder. He slowly rubbed her back, wrapping his arm around her waist. After a while, she caught her breath, stepping back out of his embrace, blushing profusely.

"I'm sorry, John. I shouldn't have-"

"It's alright, Marie. Everyone has bad days."

She nodded, dabbing her face with her handkerchief. "We lost a patient. One that we thought would live. The infection spread so fast." She wiped away one more tear.

"I'm sure you did your best." He rationalized, giving her a small smile. "And that's all you can do."

Emmy nodded, the handkerchief balled up in her hands, she took a deep breath, returning with a melancholy smile.

* * *

><p>He was out of time. The three months had flown by, and the Autons had not come. But he was ready, he thought, ready to face them.<p>

Marie held the locket up, examining it. "John, is it really true?"

"Unfortunately, it is."

She nodded, "So I'm not who I really think I am. But this locket is the only thing protecting me."

He became frustrated with himself as the ticking of his watch made his hearts ache.

She sighed, "Well. Here goes." She gave him a smile, opening the locket. She was encompassed in the golden light that emanated from the locket. Emmy shook her head, the energy fading into the night.

"Doctor?" she asked, and the Doctor turned to face the Emmy that he knew.

She wiped away the red lipstick onto her sleeve, unbuttoning the high neck of her dress. He stepped towards her, placing his hands on her face, searching her eyes.

"It's me! Really, it's me. Goodness, what has gotten into you? I think you've got a couple grey hairs..." she smirked, wrapping her arms around him, squeezing him tight.

He returned her embrace, then placed his hands on each side of her face again, "No nausea, or aphasia?"

"No, I'm fine! I'm brilliant, really, Doctor." She placed her hands on his shoulders, beaming at him, "It's so good to recognise you. Any luck with the Autons?"

"Um, well," he fidgeted with his screwdriver, "They're probably on their way by now." There was a crash outside of the hospital. "Or they've just arrived, at least they aren't late!" he joked, hands flailing about.

"My screwdriver?" Emmy held her hand out, and he fetched it from his jacket pocket. She peered out the window, to see the never ending army surrounding the hospital.

"Doctor!" a voice echoed throughout the grounds, "Surrender or the planet will burn."

He gave a sly smirk to Emmy, swaggering to the window, "Oh, a bluff, that's interesting."

"I don't think it's a bluff." Emmy peered up, to see a sinister force field knitting itself across the horizon.

The Doctor pointed his sonic upwards, scanning the field. He paused, clicking the sonic into place, "Alright. Force field, sealing off the atmosphere. Not a bluff."

The message repeated, "Doctor, surrender or the planet will burn." The voice sent chills down Emmy's spine, she looked to him for guidance.

"Guess we should properly introduce ourselves?" Emmy offered, sliding her sonic into her apron pocket.

"But who do they work for? Who sent them here, why do they want us? What is their motive?" he wracked himself for answers.

"Doctor, we don't have a choice." She reached out to him, a hand resting on his arm, "We tried running, we tried hiding, let's just face it. Together."

The message continued as they walked hand in hand down the hallway, taking a deep breath before stepping out into the burning red light emanating from the force field. Countless soldiers surrounded them, setting their sights on their bodies, the lasers that would guide the aim concentrating on the pair. Emmy's grasp immediately tightened, the Doctor responded by rubbing his thumb across her hand. He was ripped away by a pair of soldiers gripping him under the arms, the Doctor glaring at the men.

One soldier stepped forward, the only individual in the sea of plastic. He was decorated with stars on his shoulders, a cap replacing the berets of the lower ranks. His hair was dark, combed back, his eyes an icy grey. He towered over his army, hand resting on the sidearm on his holster.

"Ah, Doctor, how nice of you to join us. And I see you brought your little pet."

"Who are you? Let him go!"

"Not a chance. I am General Augustus Moran."

"Augustus?" Emmy whispered to herself, when the Doctor piped up.

"General of?" he asked, jerking against the soldiers, who only tightened their grip.

"Torchwood. I am here by royal decree to arrest the Doctor."

"Why? What has he done?" Emmy implored, taking a step towards him, but was stopped by the amount of gun barrels she now stared down.

"Tsk tsk. He really has you trained, doesn't he?" the General circled Emmy, causing her skin to crawl.

"You cannot arrest him without telling him his charges. Now what has he done to deserve a royal decree to be arrested."

"Oh, Emmaline. You see so much, yet understand so little. I thought you would be more intelligent than that." He clasped his onto the Doctor's shoulder, "You see, your precious Doctor is our number one enemy. He's wreaked havoc across space and time in his grief."

"No, he helps people. We help people!" Emmy felt frozen, glaring at the General, "We just travel, and sometimes there's trouble, but it almost always works out in the end. He's not an enemy." She rationalised, trying to plead with the general.

"Oh, but he is, sweetheart. He just hasn't shown you yet. Cuff him."

Emmy shook her head, "Take me instead!"

"Emmy, no!" The Doctor protested, trying to yank his hands away from the soldiers, but they overpowered him.

Emmy walked towards the general, the sights now concentrating on her, "Take me. Please."

"Emmy, no! No, no, Emmy!" The Doctor bellowed, straining against the cuffs.

The general turned with a pleased smile.

"Take me, as long as he is free." Emmy offered her hands, the general closing handcuffs around her wrists.

The general held Emmy to him, pulling a silver cylinder out of his pocket. "See what you've created, Doctor? They're always brave, aren't they? Always willing to sacrifice themselves in your place?"

Emmy concentrated solely on the Doctor, giving him a fleeting smile before the general plunged the cylinder into Emmy's thigh, causing her to lose consciousness.

The Autons immediately vanished with a flash of bright light, the general leaving with Emmy. The handcuffs clicked, the Doctor tossing them onto the ground. The pale moonlight returning as the force field dissipated.


End file.
